Amnesia (Editing Status - 1-3 done)
by Willowstar157
Summary: After WW1, Canada finds himself in a situation that nobody else realizes is happening until it's too late. When he wakes up after being stuck in a comatose state for one hundred years with a severe case of amnesia, it's up to America to help northern neighbor both get into the swing of being a Nation of the 21st century, and helping him regain memories of who he formerly was. UsCan
1. Chapter 1

I coughed and choked.

I tried dragging air into my lungs, tried forcing them to cooperate, but they wouldn't.

No...

More like they couldn't.

I coughed again, straining my skin-bare back against the cold brick wall.

My breathing came in jagged gasps.

Each tiny, quivering intake of air sent a piercing pain through my lungs.

The gas descended lower and lower, slowly filling my lungs.

 _It shouldn't be affecting me in this way._

I knew that.

It burned my eyes, everything was starting to blur.

To vanish.

And I was powerless to stop it.

I pulled, yanked, jerked, against the metal chains. Why? Why couldn't I break them? I was a personification! I had the strength of approximately ten million people at my back! These chains shouldn't be able to bind me, not unless...

"Vell, Canada, it's been quite zhe struggle." Tall, blond, and standing proud in a dark green uniform. But the thing that stood out most, the thing that let me identify who had addressed me, was the thick accent.

"G-Germa..." I was cut off by my own coughing, holding back a scream from the pain that came from my eyes. It started burning through my clothes. My skin felt like it was being set on fire.

"Vhat? Zhe great Canada, brought to his knees by a little smoke?" He laughed. I glared at him. Or, at least, where I thought he was. It was hard to tell exactly where the German was when I couldn't see clearly.

His figure stood in the teargas, it circled around him, making it look like an evil shadow. Why wasn't he being affected by it? I don't know if he had caught the question in my eyes, but he continued talking.

"Simple. It doesn't affect me because I was zhe one vho made it." It was the first time since Vimy I had seen this man up close and personal. I didn't think it was possible I could ever hate anyone so much. I didn't think it was possible for someone to mentally contain as much hate as that which was in me right now. A tiny part of me, the past me, the _old_ me, wanted to throw up at the sensation that was winding its way through my heart. But the rest of me put every last ounce of energy into glaring at the German, into desperately trying to drag more air into my lungs.

The past me was long gone, destroyed by the war.

The peace-loving me was nothing more than a memory.

Now it was pure, sheer hatred.

And it consumed me.

The only things I could clearly think about was the burning pain, and the unending want for the blood of my enemies.

"Vell, you can't say you didn't expect zhis," He snickered, the look in his completely foreign. Even for me.

I wanted to talk so badly, just a few words, but it was only becoming harder and harder to draw breaths.

"L-Le..." I managed that, and that alone. I didn't want to beg, the thought of doing so sickened me. But I knew I had to get out. I knew I wouldn't last much longer, and my survival instinct was kicking in. That instinct was currently the only thing overpowering my bloodlust.

"Vhat? Vhat vere you about zo say? 'Let me out'? Or maybe 'stop'?" He laughed, "Sorry, Canada, but zhat vont be happening any zime soon." I was tempted to let go; to let myself snap. Maybe when I felt no mercy for anyone, and I would have the strength to break out of these chains. To get out of this... Wherever this was.

He leaned down, close enough to whisper words directly in my ear. I felt his breath on my neck, feeling like a thousand needles were being pushed against it. The only thing his closeness did was make me jerk and twist my body, trying to kick the other Nation away.

"Zhe var is over. Your precious allies vont be coming zo save you anytime soon. Zhey zhink zhat you are home, safe and sound." He chuckled. His next words chilled my spine, momentarily snapping me out of my blood lust, momentarily becoming replaced with fear and filling me with dread.

"You are alone."

His smile was maniacal, a hand reaching around behind his back. I heard the hissing of leather on steel. I noticed the small glint of something through the haze. Then I felt something cold and sharp against the sensitive skin on my throat.

My eyes widened in fear when I realized what he was doing. There was a small blade in his hand. His whip was probably resting on his hip, fastened securely to his belt. Though the leather cord I normally held so much fear for wasn't the first thing on my mind right now.

The feeling of the cold steel slowly left, and I realized he had pulled it away. Then I felt its sharp tip on my shoulder. The feeling slowly made its way down my arm, and everything started going numb. The only thing I could feel was blood slowly trickling down my skin, and the sharp pain. Oh, the pain. I opened my mouth, forgetting why I had been keeping close. The increased, intense burning quickly reminded me and I closed it, silently jerking off into another coughing fit.

The only thing it ended up doing was making the numbing of my arm go faster.

Germany was now sliding the dagger towards and around my wrist, making a small circle around my hand.

At this point I couldn't feel anything. My entire arm was dead weight, and something told me the limp was going to travel to the rest of my body.

The cold prick appeared again, this time at my other shoulder.

The same thing reoccurred.

I could feel my skin slowly being slit down to my wrist, before he drew another loop around the bone with the blade. The intense pain welled up even harsher than before. My other side was quickly going numb too.

The blade left my arm, and I felt a brief sense of relief.

Then, I felt it again.

But, instead of it appearing again on one of my other limbs, I once again felt the metal pressing against the sensitive skin of my throat.

Every part of me wanted to shake, to pull away, but I couldn't.

Everything was numb.

I couldn't feel my arms at all.

I had no power over my own body, no matter how much I willed it to move. To turn away. To do anything.

I heard Germany snicker, and then words he then whispered into my ear once again chilled me.

"Have a nice sleep, Canada," He said, "Forever."

And the metal jerked inwards. Time seemed to slow. I felt it slicing through my skin, opening my mouth in another feeble attempt to scream. Though, once again, nothing came out. I shut it, clamping my teeth together against the pain. I felt the gas flooding into my body, traveling up into my brain, down into my heart and lungs.

I thought I couldn't breath before. Now, I couldn't even try.

My body currently had two choices.

Everything was either screaming in sheer agony, or everything was numb.

I couldn't tell the difference between reality and fiction anymore as the unbelievable pain rattled through me.

He stood up, slowly backing away. The only thing I could do was struggle feebly against the chains, pushing and pulling and forcing myself to keep moving until I felt the skin on my wrists and back become raw.

Then it started at the corners.

My blurred vision started darkening, collapsing inwards on itself.

 _Is this it?_

 _Is this how I die?_

 _After everything I had just gone through, everything I just proved to myself, my country... Was it all for nothing?_

 _Is this the end of Canada...?_

It had been great while it had lasted, being seen by the other nations, being seen by my own family.

 _Maybe now, I'll get to see mother... Apologize for what Alfie and I did to her..._

My only regrets?

That I never got the chance to thank Britain for teaching me how to be an honourable nation, an honourable person. For teaching me how to defend myself, and my borders.

That I never got the chance to thank America for always being there, even after 1812, when nobody else could be. For being the best gluttonous, self-addicted brother anyone could ever wish for. For being there when I needed him, and when he needed me, after our mother died.

That I never got the chance to tell France, to tell Papa, that I still loved him. That I didn't blame him for my being taken by England.

That, no matter what, I would've always been his little Maple Leaf.

* * *

 **A/N: This is gonna screw around with history and cannon quite a bit, so sorry about that. You guys'll learn why later. And I feel like I kinda went into a different style. But ehhh... What works works.  
As to how this happened... I saw a headcannon about how Canada got his glasses, it was during the Second Battle of Ypres, when the German's gas attack came and the crippling/casualties of his soldiers permanently damaged his eyesight. I loved it, got the idea to write a fic about it, and then put my own little spin on things.  
And, in case you didn't guess, this was Snapped!Canada/Germany, since WW1 kinda completely demolished Germany's government, I figured he'd be ever so slightly (understatement much...) unstable for a few years after the loss. And, since Canada started the 'beginning of the end,' he'd take it out on the syrup-loving bear tamer. As for Canada... Well, come on, who wouldn't lose their self-control if they were about to die from torture?  
So, hope you guys enjoyed, and sorry if this made anyone uncomfortable! Chapters will start lengthening as it goes on.**


	2. Chapter 2

~Canada's PoV~

Darkness.

Pain.

Nations.

War.

Those were the only things I could think of.

They swamped me, drowned me until nothing was left.

Why?

What had happened to make me like this?

What had happened to put me in so much pain I couldn't think of anything else?

"Mattie... Mattie!" A loud, obnoxious voice.

When I tried blinking open my eyes, I couldn't. It felt like they were sealed shut.

"Alfred, you know what they said..." That was a British accent. And Alfred... Who was he? I couldn't clearly remember, but I knew that I should know that name. From somewhere.

I dimly heard something slam up against something else. I tried twisting my body to the source of the noise, but it wasn't responding.

It was like everything had been shut off.

I couldn't control it.

"I know, dammit!" Alfred replied, a tinge of desperation in his voice as it cracked. "I just can't... I can't believe it! I know he'll wake up! He has to..!"

"Bloody hell, America! Put. Me. Down!"

America?

Who was that?

Where they talking about me?

They must've been. Who else would it be?

What was going on?

Who were these people?

Where was I?

Wait...

Who was I?

I fished through my memory, but came up with a blank.

"Amérique... Angleterre.." There was another voice. Was that accent... French? Something in me said it was. Something in me said that I should know it, said that I should remember it. But every time I tried I just got a sharp pain in my head, like there was a wall blocking it. A wall that I was pushing up against, trying with all my might to push down. But it wouldn't budge.

"What, you damned frog? It's been one hundred bloody years. If he was going to wake up-"

"Shut up, England! He's going to wake up! I know it!" That first voice came up again, and the sound of slamming, "He's going to..." The voice suddenly died, as if the one talking was losing his will.

A deep part of me screamed in protest.

 _I'm right here!_ It said.

Why, though?

Who were they?

Who were they to me?

 _Why can't you guys ever see me?_ It said.

I struggled to regain at least slight control of my body.

Why had I lost it in the first place though?

What was happening to me?

What were the countless voices swarming through my head?

I heard muttering.

And one other sound that shook me to my core, tearing at me. One I desperately wanted to stop.

I couldn't make either out, though.

Sighing, I let myself fall back under as I heard another sound that was slowly growing more distant each time it reached my ears.

It was a heavy tap, I think...

Oh well.

Not like it mattered, anyways.

...What was it, though..?

* * *

~America's PoV~

"Mattie... Mattie!" I shouted, suddenly on high alert. I swore I just saw him twitch. England came up and put a comforting hand on my back.

"Alfred, you know what they said..." He started. I quickly blinked away tears as something inside me snapped. I wheeled around, grabbing the Brit's collar and shoving him up against the wall. We were both silent as we glared at each other for a few moments before I broke our staring contest, unable to hold back the tears anymore.

"I know, dammit!" I cursed my vocal cords as my voice cracked, rising an octave, "I just can't... I can't believe it! I know he'll wake up! He has to..!" I trailed off, unable to continue as I repeatedly cursed myself.

It felt like all I could do these days was cry.

It was pitiful, but I couldn't stop it.

I lay my head against his shoulder, silently crying into it, somehow forgetting I was still holding him up.

"America! Put. Me. Down!" He snapped. I tensed, before dashing to compose myself as I lifted my head.

I couldn't just... _It's not those times anymore. That's my own fault._

I couldn't just break down in front of England...

"Amérique... Angleterre..." France said softly from behind us. For a moment, my breath hitched in my throat and I froze, thinking it was Mattie talking before my common sense came over me again and I remembered it was the Frenchie.

 _When he talks quietly like that, they can sound so similar..._

"What, you damned frog? It's been one hundred bloody years. If he was going to wake up-"

"Shut up, England! He's going to wake up! I know it!" I couldn't take it anymore and I repeated the same phrase I always did. "He's going to..."

Over and over, I clung onto those three words. That one broken promise. Desperately searching for a light in the darkness, grabbing hold of anything I possibly could.

I refused to be like everyone else.

They had lost hope in the comatose Nation.

Everyone had.

The only reason France and England still came was to check up on me.

I admired France for it, seeing his adopted son in such a state daily, when he was convinced there was no way for Canada to wake up... I tried not to think about he had been taken away from the French. Much less talk about everything as if he still had a glimmer of hope.

I knew he didn't, though.

It hurt him too much to dare to hope.

England, while I owed him for coming - I felt like his reassurance was the only thing that was keeping me sane nowadays, - I would be even more thankful if he could be a little more optimistic. At least around me. His opinion was one of the few I truly valued; it hurt deeper than I'd ever admit out loud whenever I heard the Brit say that my brother would never wake up.

I walked away, taking slow and unsteady steps before leaning against the glass window. It was the only thing separating me from Mattie. I had stopped going into the room about two weeks ago; it hurt too much always seeing the pale skin, the way his chest just barely rose and fell in time with his shallow breaths, the eyelids that simply refused to open despite all my pleading. _He doesn't even know about NATO, and it was the first thing that truly brought us together._ Two sides of the same coin, and one was clueless, stuck in a deep sleep. The realization hit home, and it hit home hard.

"Amérique..." Somewhere in the back of my mind I registered France talking again, just that one word.

Just my shortened name, in his language. His accent.

Mattie's occasional accent. Mattie's second language.

I'm not sure if it was that, or if it was how he had turned me around and pulled me into a tight hug, or maybe it was even how so I could see so much of my brother in the French Nation, but somewhere in those few moments I started crying again.

I hadn't seen France genuinely smile at all over the past fifty or so years. It hurt seeing the normally passionate man so broken.

"Frog, we need to be going," England said after several minutes had passed, "You don't want to hold up the others." France looked skeptical. I stood up, somehow pulling up a weak smile.

"Dude, the British dude's right. You dudes can't miss the meeting." I realized after finishing I had said one too many dudes to successfully pull off the 'I'm fine' act.

"America..." My adoptive father said softly. I shook my head.

"No, you need to get going. Sorry I can't be there." _Again._ I added to myself. I had been neglecting my duties as a Personification in order to stay with Mattie, in case something happened.

Nothing ever did, though.

"No, it is okay. Everyone gets it." France said softly.

"Thanks, dude." I muttered.

They nodded solemnly, before turning and walking down the hall without a word.

It was weird, I admit, seeing them not argue for once.

I stood at the window about an hour after the others had left, staring inside the room.

Waiting anxiously.

For something.

For anything.

Any change in the heart monitor.

Any change in the shallow breaths I had now grown so very accustomed to.

One hundred years, huh? Some brother I was... I remember finding Mattie that day, as if it had happened yesterday. That memory, that sight, the feeling of his limp body in my arms... It was all scorched into my memory like a scar.

* * *

 _"Yo British dude, have you seen Canada anywhere?" I asked, speed walking up to my dad. It's been a month since the war ended, and no one's seen hide nor hair of the Canadian._

 _"Who are you talking about, bloody wanker?" Britain snapped. I winced, remembering how our dad had trouble both seeing and remembering the shadow-like Nation. Exactly like so many others. I hated it, hated seeing my brother so easily ignored or forgotten. He deserved so much more recognition than what he got._

 _Each time someone asked me or France 'who?' whenever either of us brought him up sent a sharp stab straight through my heart. Everyone needed a hero, even heroes need heroes. And he was mine._

 _The idea of him being missing, especially right after something like the Great War, had me worried to no end._

 _"Amérique? What are you-?"_

 _"France! Frenchie! Dude! Where the hell is Mattie?!" Thank God he was here._  
 _If anyone knew, it was him._

 _He_ had _to know._

 _"What? Is he not in Canada?" The French questioned, a nervous glint now in his eyes as he studied me._

 _Dammit, dammit, dammit! Where the hell was he?_

 _"No, he isn't. Why do you think I'm here?" Cursing under my breath, I started pacing across the grass, unable to stand still. I paused, taking a moment to observe them both. Four years at war was harsh for anyone, but this time..._

 _This time must have been hell._

 _I had only been there for the last year or two, and it took its toll on me._

 _They both looked weary still, their hair drooping and dead. France still had bruises and cuts all along his face and arms, and more were probably hidden under his clothes._

 _No._

 _No_ probably _about it._

 _The war had been deafening for all of France._

 _His body must be proof enough of that._

 _England, on the other hand, simply looked tired. Exhausted, actually. After a month of recuperating, mourning the dead, and rebuilding, he had healed surprisingly well physically though._

 _I looked between the two, pursing my lips, before coming to the conclusion that had been sitting on the tip of my tongue this entire time._

 _"We need to find him."_

 _I needed to tell him how I felt._

 _And nothing was going to stop me._

 _Even if it meant going straight back into another war._

 _I needed to tell him that I loved him._

* * *

I walked into Mattie's room, slowly sitting down next to his bed. I had forgotten about why I had stopped doing so. The sight of everything pained me. My hand reached up, grasping his, which didn't do much except sit in my grip limply. Even though I had grown used to the feeling of his dead weight in my palm, it still brought tears to my eyes.

I raised my other hand, shakily tracing the long, thin scar that sat across his throat with one finger. A fresh bubble of anger rose in my chest towards Germany, the one who had done this to him. To my brother, and the one I loved more than anything.

I let out a choked sob as my gaze sat on his closed eyelids, desperately watching for something, anything.

"Mattie... Dude, please... Please, wake up... You have to..." I said through heavy breaths, "Everyone else has given up on you... Even France... Even France doesn't want to put any hope... On what he thinks is a lost cause..." I begged. No answer came, though. No quiet laugh, no 'jeez, America,' not even an 'eh' was emitted from his still lips. Taking another shaky breath, I tried again. The last idea I had to try and wake him up today. One I couldn't use again until next year.

"Mattie, please... It's July First, your birthday... I want to celebrate it with the one I love." Though, as always, no response. I sighed, crestfallen.

How I missed the sound of his voice. The look of his smile every time I made him laugh. The feeling of his hug. The gleeful but worried rush whenever we played ball and I ended up hitting him in the face with it.

It was the same every day.

I always sat here beside him, talking to him. It didn't have to be about his country, I just... Talked. About memories, about things that were going on with the others. About how Kumajiro was doing, whom I had started taking care of.

I kept him updated on what was going on in Hockey every time a new season came around, even though I knew that, had he been awake, he never would've let me live down how many times I've lost to him.

People always say that when you're in a coma, you're still aware of what goes on around you. That you can still hear people, still feel them. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you could even see them.

I prayed constantly that was true.

Praying was the only thing I could do for him.

And I've never felt so helpless or lost as I have been this past century, even during World War Two.

I rested my head against his stomach, pressing my ear against his chest and listening to his unnaturally slow heartbeat. The rhythm both pained and calmed me; it was an odd sensation.

I was silent, just listening to it and thinking about how my brother would miss yet another birthday. I was like that for about ten minutes when something changed.

His breathing pattern suddenly stopped short, and the thump of his heart sped up.

I tensed, freezing in place, not daring to look up for a few moments. _Can it really..?_ Snapping out of my mental trainwreck I whipped my head around to face his, choking on another sob and shouting for a nurse.

Violet eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling, full of fear.

"Mattie!" At the sound of my voice, he started thrashing. I don't know why. I tried forcing him to remain still, putting all my weight on top of him. Normally it would've been hard, but after one hundred years, he was weak. Weaker than any Personification should ever be.

"Mattie, stop! Calm down!" I shouted. I heard the door slam open, and shuffling going on in the room. Probably a nurse or doctor.

But I didn't check. I was zeroed in on keeping the panic-stricken Nation in place.

The doctor rushed over, saying something about keeping Matthew as still as possible as he lined up a syringe with his neck. I coughed meekly. _What does he think I'm trying to do? Make a doughnut?!_

Mattie pushed against me, but I grabbed the edge of the bed to keep myself - and him - down against the thin linens.

"Canada, listen to me," I pleaded into his ear, his long, blond hair tickling my nose from how close we were. "This isn't you. We're trying to help." He calmed down slightly, but not without sending a frozen shock through my heart.

"Who am I? Who are you? Why are you trying to help me?" He asked shakily. I froze, staring into his terrified violet eyes as the doctor plunged the syringe into his neck, and slowly, slowly, they fluttered shut once again.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry 'bout Al's OOC-ness in this chapter... It's hard trying to figure out how different characters would react to different situations, as I said in my WW1 one-shot collection. And I thought Al would just be that close to his family that... That. Would happen. I don't know... I did a thing. I like that thing. But I can't describe that thing. I think it's the fact I'm writing this at midnight... e_e I'll be posting this thing in tomorrow though... Or it would be today, when I do... Um... Thing.**  
 **And I know. I suck at writing amnesiac people. T_T It's so harddddd. So different. There's the 'clueless idiot' main character and then there's actually the 'I dunno derp' main character.**  
 **Hopefully I'll get better, though!**  
 **As always, hope you guys enjoy! n.n**  
 **In the meantime, I'm just gonna go over there to do a thing for a thing so I can test a thing for someone else's thing...**  
 **Thing.**  
 **DERP.**  
 **XD**


	3. Chapter 3

~America's PoV~

"Who am I? Who are you? Why are you trying to help me?" He asked. I froze, staring into his terrified violet eyes as the doctor plunged the syringe into his neck, and slowly, slowly, they fluttered shut once again.

My mind had stopped. I was unable to fully register what he had said. Numbly, I stood up and walked to the side of the room when he had fallen completely still again. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, opening up my text to Iggy's chat. I robotically typed in two words that I still couldn't really comprehend.

 ** _"He's awake."_**

And clicked it off, before turning back to look at Mattie. The doctor was giving me a sympathetic look. He pat my shoulder sadly, before he left the room without saying a word. My phone beeped several times in quick succession, and I looked at the lock screen.

Iggy, France, China, Italy, Prussia, and Mexico had all sent me a text. Then another name appeared that both surprised me, and sent a fresh surge of anger course through my veins.

 _Germany._

 _He has little to no right to be worried._

I shook my head, ridding it of devoid thoughts. I knew how unstable one of us could be after a war, especially one that forced you to rebuild your entire government.

 _It wasn't his fault._

 _He wasn't in his right mind._

I reminded myself how the German had been constantly blaming himself for my brother's condition.

 _I know how easy it is for us to snap..._

I refused to let any darker thoughts enter my mind after that, and only worried about Mattie. When we were weak ourselves, we were especially susceptible to the darker voices of our people. It was one of the downfalls of being a personification; you don't always get a full decision on your own actions. Your own thoughts. Your own personality. All that was decided by our citizens, and it took such a strong mental strength to block them out and be our own person. Even then, it took decades of practice.

I groaned to myself in the silence, the only sound being the heart monitor's beeping, and decided I needed to go out and get some fresh air. The quiet was deafening to my pounding ears.

My phone kept buzzing as more and more nations heard the news, so eventually I just put it on silent and shoved it in my back pocket.

* * *

~Canada's PoV~

Beeping... What was that sound? I didn't know...

Slowly, I blinked open my eyes. Everything was blurry, shifting in and out of view.

Memories of the last time I had opened them came; there had been a man. He talked like he knew me, knew who I was.

I groaned, reaching up and rubbing my forehead. It throbbed painfully every time I tried remembering something.

Who was that man..? He had been shouting a name- what had it been..? Mattie, I think? Was that mine? Was that _me_?

My head throbbed again as I questioned the idea, making me wince.

"Mr. Williams, you need to remain lying down." I jumped, looking around for the source of the voice. A lady stood in the corner of the room, typing something onto a bright light.

"Where am I..?" I asked her, looking around the room.

"Queensway Carleton Hospital. You've been here for quite some time," She muttered, turning around. She was dressed in a white coat, with a tube hanging around her neck, "What do you remember?"

I tried thinking of something to give her, anything. My head throbbed once again and breathing became difficult from the pressure.

"Um... I remember... A man... He was next to me, last time I woke up."

"Yes, that was Mr. Alfred Jones. He's been with you non stop for as long as I've been working here," She came over, sitting on the edge of my bed. "Anything else? Your name, maybe? Family? Why you're here? What happened before you fell into cardiac arrest?"

I shook my head as the throb became worse. I couldn't remember anything, as hard as I might try. That pounding, that invisible wall, was in the way.

"No... Nothing." I muttered, not bothering to ask what cardiac arrest was. I figured I'd find out later, most likely by that man... What name had she used? Alfred Jones? Yeah, that was it... I looked around for him, but couldn't see him. I mentally shrugged it off; chances are I'd come across him again, and soon.

"Well, Me. Williams, I'm going to go prepare a meal for you. Chances are you're pretty hungry, eh?" She smiled, getting up and walking over to the door. _'Eh'? What kind of a word is that? Why does it sound so home-like..?_

"Yes, thank you, Miss..." I trailed off, unsure of her name.

"Robertson. My name's Jane Robertson." She smiled, and closed the door behind her.

Left in silence, I had nothing else to think of, and let my thoughts trail off to my old questions.

"What happened to me..." I groaned, flopping back down on the bed. The annoying beep was coming from a machine I was connected to. And it didn't seem like it'd stop anytime soon.

"Things that make you very lucky to be alive, mate. You've had us all very worried, ya know," A voice came from above me, causing me to whip my head around in a panic, eyes wide. "Whoa, relax. It's just me." A man with a koala on his shoulder fell from the ceiling in a spin, landing easily on his feet and turning around to face me with an easy smile on his face. He had messy brown hair and dark green eyes. A bandage lay across his nose.

"Who... Who are you, though?" I asked him warily.

"What? Whaddya mean, 'who are you'?" He asked, staring at me, "You aren't... Blind, are ya?"

"I... Don't think so..." I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose in a feeble attempt to focus my vision, "Everything gets blurry as it goes further away... Is that blind?"

"Y'know mate, ya ain't really makin' much sense."

"Well, I don't remember anything, so that could possibly be why." I stated matter-of-factly. He did a double take, staring at me. He looked overly shocked for something like that.

"S-say what now?" He half squawked, half asked. "Ya can't remember nothin'?" I shook my head.

"Oh crikey, mate..." He started talking to himself, pacing back and forth beside my bed. "That's not good... Not good at all..."

"Eh?" I inadvertently used the word I had been questioning just minutes before. He paused mid step, looking at me, before shaking his head.

"England needs to get here, soon..." He muttered as he resumed his pacing.

"You still haven't answered my question... Who are you?"

"I... I... I don't think I should answer that right now, mate." He finalized, hesitating over his words. It only furthered my curiosity.

"Why?"

"'Cause, mate. Without your memories, it would only confuse ya."

"Eh?" He was confusing me right now but when I stared at him, he simply turned away and continued muttering to himself.

"This ain't good... None of us have ever gotten amnesia..." He paused, looking back at me, "Do you remember anything? At all?" He questioned. I shrugged, and decided to be fully honest with him. Something told me he knew what was wrong with me.

"There are sounds going through my head... They sound like voices, but there's no one here except you and me," I explained, now pushing myself up so I could sit on the side of the bed. He paused, staring at me as I did so. A flash of relief appeared in his eyes briefly.

"So, at least you're still one of us..."

"One of you? What do you mean?" Now I had stood up, to which he promptly shoved me back down onto the bed.

"Whoa there, mate. You just woke up. Don't be pushing yourself now." He said softly. I glanced at him, sighed, and groaned.

"I feel like there's something I need to do, you know..." I muttered, trailing off. I wasn't sure how to continue. But that feeling of just _knowing_ told me that the brunette would understand.

"Yeah, mate. I think I know exactly what you're talkin' 'bout," He gave me a knowing look, "By the way, where's Al?" He asked. Then face palmed. "Course, you don't know who-"

"I don't know. He was here the first time I woke up, but this time..." His head snapped up.

"You know him? Er, ya remember him...?"

"I said before, I remember nothing specific. I asked the nurse who was in here when I woke up. She only gave me a name, and that he's been here as long as she's been here."

"Oh. Alrighty then, mate..." I couldn't hold my tongue anymore.

"Why do you keep on calling me that?" I asked. He tensed, a dry smirk on his lips.

"It's just what us Australians say, ya know?"

"Australian..." I let the word roll across my tongue. It sounded vaguely familiar...

Suddenly a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my head. I winced, grabbing onto it and was suddenly glad I wasn't standing up.

"Hey, mate, you okay?" He spoke in a voice laced with worry.

Dimly, I registered the door open.

"Canada!"

And a few pairs of footsteps bouncing against the ground.

I didn't see who had come in, though, before my entire world blacked out once again.

* * *

 _"Okay, let the world meeting begin!" The man from before smiled broadly, leaning against the desk with his hands, "We'll work together and solve all the world's problems one by one! If we combine our strength we can definitely fix even the toughest problems!" I looked around as he spoke, confused. Faces were all over the room that I know I should know, but I couldn't match a name with anyone. My attention was drawn back to the loud one at the head of the table._

 _"I'll go first; about that whole using global warming to enslave humanity thing, I think we'll be ok if we genetically engineer a huge hero and have her protect the Earth!" He pointed to a drawing with exactly that that was hung up on the wall. I assumed he had drawn it himself. He continued talking, "I give you the Superhero Globoman!"_

 _"I'm with America-san on this." America? Was that his name? But the nurse had said it was Alfred... And who had talked? It was a rather short man with straightly cut, raven hair, and dull black eyes. He was dressed in... A Tuxedo..?_

 _"Not again, Japan! Man up or I'll beat you with my peace prize!" Another man with a camouflaged outfit and a gun strapped to his back spoke up, slamming his fist down on the table angrily._

 _"I disagree with him! How could anyone agree with an idea with such a flawed sense of reality?" Another man spoke now, who was sipping tea in front of a window. Dressed sharply, blonde hair, emerald eyes, but the largest thing that stood out to me was his abnormally bushy eyebrows. "And don't say 'learned'! What the bloody hell is 'learned'? It's 'learnt,' you git!" I smirked at that._

 _"Well, I disagree with both America and England." A man who looked similar to the one before - whom I assumed was the one called England - but he had longer hair, and was dressed a lot more loosely than the other._

 _"You can't disagree with both!" England shouted angrily._

 _America- Alfred- whatever his name was joined in on the two, poking his head with a pen, while England swatted it aggressively._

 _"Man, you Frenchies sure do love to hate on America, don't you?"_

 _"Agreeing with you guys would be in bad taste. Unlike you guys, I am a gentleman!" The man who had spoken replied._

 _"Don't make such important decisions based on good taste, you wine-loving bastard!"_

 _"Sit down! Today will be the day I rip out that beard of yours!"_

 _"Ooh, bring it on! Big brother can take it!" They started having at each other, England twice as mad as earlier from the words 'big brother,' and America-Alfred-Guy got out of their way quick, a cheesy smirk on his face._

 _"Please settle down!" Someone shouted. I never saw who._

 _A man with long brown hair that was tied back in a ponytail sighed. He had a prim, plain white shirt on._

 _"Western nations are so immature. I doubt they ever grow up! Maybe I can try appealing to the organ of theirs that seems to work," He snapped, before bringing a box of sweets out of nowhere. "Would you guys like to sample some Chinese tasty treat?" He asked that right as England shouted something along the lines of 'I used to be an empire but now I have to deal with French military victories,' but I wasn't sure I heard him right. The idea of him being an empire was too farfetched._

 _"WE'LL JUST GET HUNGRY AGAIN!" Both the arguing males shouted in unison, cutting off my thoughts._ At least they can agree on something... _Another man came up in front of the cloud of dust they had kicked up in their fight, raising his arm._

 _"Is it free?"_

 _I looked away from them, letting them settle whatever was going on themselves, and towards a different group, who were eyeing them bemusedly._

 _"Oh my... Looks like they're at it again, as always. I guess we just have free time while they fight."_

 _"Hahaha, you can't beat me with an attack like that! Eat this, the Fork of Britannia!" As much as I tried to zone them out, I heard England shout that and couldn't hold back my laughter. Fork of Britannia..?_

 _"Hmm... I was just thinking about the death of Homer." A man who was dressed with clothes that were either too big or just not done up properly replied to the one that had spoken before. He was surrounded by several cats._

 _I looked away from them as another man slide up behind a giant, catching my attention._

 _"Russia! Why don't you say something? They'll stop fighting if you say your opinion."_

 _"What? Me? I..." The one who the guy had asked the question to replied, looking at another, who nervously shrank back at his next words, "I want to see Lithuania so troubled that he comes to me begging in tears. You think so too, right, Latvia?" He suddenly appeared behind another short man - Latvia, I'm assuming - who started sweating immediately as he nodded his head. The one who had initially started that conversation just watched them._

 _"You're so tough, next you'll try to pick a fight with Haiti!" Another man spoke up._

 _"Do you have a detachable head?"_ Um...

 _"Hold it right there! Come any closer to Liet and I'll use Polish Law to turn your Capital into Warsaw!" By this point I had lost track of who was speaking, and just listened to the overall conversation._

 _"Hahaha! Nice fight! Anyways, I'm hungry so does anyone have any hamburgers?"_

 _"Now you've done it, you punk bastard! Now I'm really mad!"_

 _"Uwaa, I feel useless, aru!"_

 _"Bring it on! I can beat you senseless for another hundred years!"_

 _"Everyone, please calm down..."_

 _Then one voice rose above everyone else's._

 _"EVERYONE SHUT UP! Vhat zhe hell are you doing, causing more problems at a meeting intended for solving zhem?! Are you trying to repeat the mistakes from the Congress Dance?! Ve should settle down and get on with the discussions!" Everyone froze, the two fighting letting out a surprised "Germany..." before England walked up to him sheepishly._

 _"You're right... I'm sorry. I kind of lost myself in the excitement..." Germany scowled at him._

 _"It's fine. As long as you understand vhat you did, but don't get into another bout of violence," He paused, walking over to another man, who had slick brown hair and a large, upright curl, "Okay, vhen everyone's back in zheir seats let's get zhings back under control..." He slammed his hand down on a large stack of papers as he talked._

 _"Anyone vho vants to state zheir opinion should present clear data first! Ve'll speak only after zhat! Each person gets no more zhan eight minutes of speeches! If I hear anyone go over zhat time limit I von't accept it!"_

 _"Germany, you're being overly compromising."_

 _"But he isn't being compromising at all..." Two voices chirped in, quickly silenced by a death glare._

 _"Okay, zhe first one to speak should raise his hand vhen he's prepared!"_

 _"Germany, your thirst for blood is showing." The latter of the voices from right before coughed._

 _"Ah, okay, okay, I'll speak!" One who had been quiet up until then raised his hand shyly._

 _"Germany recognizes his friend, Italy!"_

 _"Um, okay... PASTAAAAAAAAAAAA~!"_

* * *

My eyes slowly blinked open to several faces above me. I realized how short of breath I was, and how sweaty I was, as I sat up.

"Are you alright, Matthieu?" The guy with long blonde hair from the dream asked. I looked around; a lot of the faces in the room now had been in it, now that I thought about it.

I looked at the last one who had spoken, and simply said,

"Pasta?"

And everyone started laughing. Both out of relief and amusement, I guess. It was hard to tell.

"The-a Maple Bastardo-a is asleep for one hundred-a years, and that's the first-a thing you say-a?"

"Well, it ain't the first thing, mate," The brunette from before grinned, "By the way, what happened there? Gave me quite the scare. You suddenly went pale, like you had seen a ghost." I drew a blank, gaping at him.

"I... Uh, had a... Dream? I think? It might've been a memory... I don't know..." The dream had struck a chord in me, definitely... But of what? Faces, sure, and I knew a few names... But there was something else. Something I couldn't place.

"If it was a memory... Do you know who you are?" I looked towards who had spoken. _Wasn't his name England...?_

"Um... I think so...? Ma-" England snapped his hand over my mouth, abruptly cutting me off.

"Not that name. Your _other_ one. Your _real_ one."

"My... Real..? What?" I blinked at him. Just then Jane walked back in, freezing on the spot when she saw the group.

"Um, excuse me, but should any of you be in here?" She asked them. Everyone looked around at each other, slightly panicked. It suddenly struck me how large this room was.

Finally, one of the men spoke up.

"Si, we should be, chica," He slipped a hand around her shoulders, gently guiding her back outside the room. "If you wish, I will explain, just not here." He shot England a look that said to wrap things up quickly.

 **"Work quickly, eyebrows. I don't know how long I can distract her."** A voice came up inside my head, one that was clearer than the others.

"Eh-?" England once again snapped his hand over my mouth until the man had left. He turned back to me, already talking.

"That was telepathy. Courtesy of Romania." He said. I nodded, not questioning what telepathy was. I assumed it was brain-brain communication, putting two and two together... The one I'm guessing was Romania held up his hand with a broad grin on his face when his name was brought up.

"Back to my old question, do you remember your _real_ name?"

"Um..."

"Angleterre, we should just-"

"No. We can't force anything on him. It'd only confuse him more."

"Well, 'e deserves to know that much-"

"You want to do the explaining, Frog?"

"No, that would be best left to Amérique..."

"Well where the bloody hell is America, anyway? Why isn't he here? Shouldn't he be helping Canada get his memories back?" He realized his mistake by letting the name slip right after he said it, but never got a chance to react to it. I blinked at him, but pushed the name away when my head started pounding again.

"I fully intend on it, British Dude," Alfred said as he stepped in the door. "I was just out for some fresh air. Though it looks like I've missed quite a bit."

* * *

 **A/N: Taking a short break from darkness and feels to further the plot along a little more quickly.**  
 **Hopefully I didn't screw that up... The memory was from the first episode/chapter of Axis Powers (I took lines from both XD), btw... It's not mine at all, which also explains why I just put in the sounds and ~'s too. I think I'm gonna do all his memories like that; direct scenes from the show or manga. Well... Remember what I said about this screwing around with cannon? Yeah. This is what I meant. Mattie somehow has memories from a time where he was in a comatose during. It's Hetalia, anime, Fanfiction logic, all thrown together into one big bowl of PASTA~. XD**  
 **Except for... Well, y'all can probably guess which memories won't be from cannon...**  
 **I was debating who would be there when Mattie actually WOKE up... I thought about France, then England, then keeping America there (quickly discarded that one)... Then I went into the lesser-known nations because, well, Canada's not a main character -as much as it saddens me to admit- and I thought that the sides would all have a special, personal connection because of that. Even if not as Personifications, but as humans. Though, the whole ceiling-assassin-thing probably would've been better suited to one of the three Italy's... (MAFIA e.e)**  
 **Oh well, though. Fanfiction, right? Not everything's gonna be perfectly in-character.**  
 **Also, the bold speech that was used in the final part of the fic is the telepathy. It won't be coming up often, but I thought I'd clear that up...**  
 **So, as always, hope y'all enjoy!**


	4. Chapter 4

~Canada's PoV~  
"I fully intend on it, British Dude," Alfred said as he stepped in the door, "I was just out for some fresh air. Though it looks like I've missed quite a bit." He smiled, though it never reached his eyes, unlike it had in the dream. His cornflower eyes were a mix of a long-held, lightened load and a deep sorrow. One whose reason I didn't want to think about.  
"You better have," England growled, glaring at him, "Because he's your responsibility now."  
"As I said before, I fully intend on it," He returned the shorter man's glare evenly, "I don't need you to tell me that, he's my-" The first man who had been in here with me slammed a hand across his mouth, cutting him off.  
"I'm your what?" I asked. I saw his shoulders slump ever so slightly. I don't think anyone else noticed, though, as he quickly picked himself back up.  
"America. Outside. Now." England snapped his fingers, dragging a protesting man out the door and slamming it behind him. I sighed, blowing away the curl that had been hanging in my face.  
It hit me suddenly that my vision had been wavering in and out of focus all this time, but I had simply been too preoccupied to notice. I blinked, pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to focus them when it came particularly bad, and didn't automatically refocus. It barely worked, and I strained my eyes, trying to force them to refocus. Coming to a conclusion, I gave up.  
Another name came back to me from the dream, and I called out to the one with the longer blonde hair. Something told me he was right next to the bed.  
"Um, France," I said softly, "There might be a problem."  
"Oui, mon petit Maple Leaf? What is it?" He looked back at me, sounding a bit surprised I had used his name. The name he addressed me with was vaguely familiar, but I wasn't going to think about that at the moment.  
"I can't see."

~America's PoV~  
As soon as Iggy and I had walked out of earshot of the others, he turned to me.  
"Listen, Alfred. I know these past hundred years have been tough on you," I gave a short bark of sarcastic laughter and he paused before continuing, "I know these past hundred years have been very tough on you, but I cannot stress this enough. Do not force any memories onto him. Whatever your heart may say to do, don't do it." I tensed, looking down at the ground.  
"Why should I listen to you? Why should I, when you and everyone else had lost hope in him?" I snapped, "I thought us Personifications are meant to stick together, but when the going got tough and you guys couldn't find the light, you just gave up."  
"I know, and I'm sorry, Alfred. But I'm not saying this for me, or you, or any of us. I'm saying this for Matthew's sake. Right now he's a kid with a blank slate; he can be turned in any direction at the snap of a twig. If you mess up, we might never have our soft-hearted Canada back." It struck me how serious he was. His emerald eyes held the same stubborn glint in them as they did when I was a kid, and didn't do as I was told.  
"You think I don't already know that?" I asked, sitting down on a bench and ran a hand through my hair.  
"I needed to make sure, Alfred. I care about him just as much as you do."  
"Well, I do already know. I know it very well. I'm not an idiot, contrary to apparent popular belief. I've dealt with amnesia before."  
"Never with one of us, though. Think about it, Alfred." He sat down next to me, rubbing a hand on my back. It sent a wave of nostalgia through me, one I would rather do without, but I didn't push him away.  
"What's the difference? We're still humans, too. We just stop aging at one point, and what would have killed normally wouldn't kill us." Iggy sighed.  
"Think, Alfred. We are history; we're the living representations of it. What happens if one of us were to forget..?" He trailed off, looking at me. That was when everything clicked.  
"A piece of history would be missing..." Iggy clapped his hands approvingly.  
"Right. And if that piece were never recovered, it would start affecting the course of time." My head snapped up to look at him.  
"What? How?"  
"Honestly, Alfred..."  
"What? I'm no sorcerer like you, Iggy."  
"How many times... Nevermind. What that means is that time will try correcting what was lost; the universe would want to find that missing piece. And until it does, we'll all be stuck in one massive time loop until things are set right once again." I blinked at him, not understanding a word he had said. He grumbled to himself, before rewording his explanation.  
"You know that annoying feeling when you finish a puzzle only to find one or two pieces missing and you won't stop looking until you find them? But when you don't, you take the puzzle apart just to redo it in ten years, and the cycle repeats?"  
"That would be very bad..." I whispered, almost to myself as everything fell into place.  
"Yes. That's why I'm saying what I am. You cannot force anything on him, no matter what your heart may say. None of your feelings, none of the memories you share." My eyes widened.  
"How did you..?"  
"After one hundred years you think I haven't noticed? I think everyone has."  
That was when we heard footsteps coming down the hall. Iggy went silent as Japan appeared around the corner.  
"America-san, England-san, you need to come back." He said. Iggy and I exchanged a glance.  
"Why? What happened?"  
"It's Canada-san... His vision failed."  
"What?" I jumped up, "Like, blurry he'll-need-glasses failed or..?" I couldn't finish the sentence, my throat constricting at the possibility.  
"No, he is not blind, America-san." I breathed a prayer of relief.  
"Then exactly how bad is it?" Iggy questioned.  
"I'm not sure. You'll have to ask him that."  
By the time Iggy had stood up from the bench I was already sprinting down the hall.

 **A/N: The name America uses for England will vary between the different situations. Also, sorry this chapter was so short... I really didn't know what else to put in there. Not too mention I'm in a pretty crappy mood today, so... And for the life of me I simply cannot remember how Japan addresses Iggy and Canada... So sorry if that's wrong. And that whole 'breathed a prayer of relief' thing, just don't ask... Yeah. Self-critic A/N. XD  
On that note... Hope y'all enjoyed this!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

~America's PoV~  
After the few seconds it had taken me to get back to Mattie's room, most of the other Nations had left, most likely ushered out of the room from the doctor that was now standing across from his bed. He had a screen on with letters decreasing in size against the wall, and Mattie had a large black pair of electronic goggles on. France stood to the side, where I went and joined him. Iggy came in and, after a few moments of analyzing the room, walked over and joined me and France.  
The screen flipped.  
"Read it." The doctor said curtly.  
I looked over to France while Mattie was quietly reciting the characters.  
"What do you think happened?" I asked him. He shook his head, shrugging.  
"We'll either have to wait until Matthieu gets back 'is memories, or somehow get the information out of Germany. And he 'as been refusing to talk about it, as you know." I nodded, slumping against the wall.  
"Yeah..." Grunting in response, I watched Mattie in silence.  
After what felt like hours, the screen went black, and the doctor walked over to his computer, furiously typing in words. Despite having lived such a long life, it always peaked my curiosity as to what exactly they were typing, and what the seemingly gibberish words meant.  
The doctor frowned, walking over to us.  
"Mr. Jones... You two," He paused while looking at Iggy and France and it took all my willpower to not laugh, "He will need a prescription. However, the damage to his vision is... Excessive. It'll take some time for us to find a company who's willing to build them, and even then, it'll take several weeks for them to be completed." I pursed my lips.  
"He can wear mine in the meantime. They should help, if only a little."  
"What? Alfred-!" Iggy started to protest but I cut him off before he could get very far into his angry Brit rant.  
"Think, Arthur. He'll need them more than I will. I can go without for a few weeks."  
"But, Mr. Jones, even if they did, your frames wouldn't fit his head." I cracked a grin, but lowered my voice so Mattie wouldn't hear what I said next.  
"C'mon, dude. Take a good look and compare Mattie and I," When he opened his mouth to protest, I continued, "You're talking to brothers, to twins. They'll fit. Trust me." _A twin I somehow fell in love with...  
_ "Say they do. His vision will still be out of sorts."  
"And? It's only for a few weeks."  
When he didn't say anything more, I walked over to Mattie and kneeled down in front of him, slowly taking off my glasses. I blinked several times, focusing my eyes as best I could when everything slipped out of focus and started wavering around.  
"Alfred-" France's voice said.  
"Don't. I want to do this, dude."  
"I was not going to say not to. I wanted to thank you for it."  
"Oh. Well, not a problem, dude."  
"Alfred..." Mattie's soft voice came from beside me. It stung a little hearing my proper name come from him, but I told myself to deal with it. _Remember what Iggy said.  
_ "Yeah?" I paused, the square-rimmed glasses hanging limply in my grip.  
He was quiet, not continuing. _Was he just testing out my name?_

" _We need to find him," I pursed my lips, my eyes hardening, "I think he's in trouble."  
_ " _We just get out of a war, and you want us to go back into lord knows what on a gut instinct?" Britain was flabbergasted.  
_ " _I know it sounds stupid, but you don't get it, Britain. We're connected; I know what he feels and he knows what I feel, to an extent. I_ know _something's wrong," I pleaded the two who had raised me and my brother, "I can't go alone. You know that."  
"Bretagne, we can't not go look for him. Oublie-tu qu'il est famille, we would not 'ave won the war without 'is 'elp. 'e deserves at least this." I looked at France, glowing.  
"So you'll...?"  
"'ow could I say non? We are talking about Matthieu 'ere, Am_ _érique." I turned hopeful gaze back towards Britain, who sighed resentfully.  
"Bloody hell, fine. I'll help." He returned my gaze warily.  
"This had better not be false suspicions, America. We're both still recovering from the war." I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face, despite the serious situation.  
"It isn't, trust me. He's in trouble. I know it."  
_Mattie, dude, if only you were here to see this... It's not a war, not anymore at least, and those two are teaming up.  
 _I can only hope we aren't too late..._

~Canada's PoV~  
He answered... I hadn't been sure whether or not it'd been him, but I hadn't planned out what I'd say if he acknowledged the name. My mind went a mile a minute, trying to find out what I remembered about him, who he was. When I once again drew a blank, I asked him.  
"Who are you? To me, I mean?" No words came. Instead, things came into a slightly more focused view, enough so I could make out facial features instead of the undefinable blur everything had been.  
Blue eyes, and short-ish hair with an odd strand that stuck up from his hairline.  
"I was... Um..." He looked away to the corner desperately, where I followed his gaze and saw the two fighters from the dream memory. The one I thought was England snapped his fingers, looking at France sidelong.  
"He was..."  
"We were best friends, before you hit your head in a car crash and lost your memories." Alfred said quickly, his voice cracking a little when he said 'best friends.'  
"Really?" Something told me it wasn't true. He didn't meet my gaze as he confirmed what he had said, rather looking down at the ground.  
"Y-yeah... Yeah. You've been in cardiac arrest for several years."England tripped over his own tongue as he spoke, further increasing my doubt, but I just nodded and went along with it anyways.  
"Mr. Williams, how do the glasses feel?" The doctor asked. I briefly nodded, smiling at Alfred.  
"Fine, thanks."  
"And your sight?" I nodded again, sharper this time. _How persistent is he..? Maple, I want him out so I can talk to those three privately..._ I used the word 'maple' subconsciously, as if it were second nature. Thinking about it for a few seconds, I mentally shrugged to myself. _It probably is, and I just don't remember._ My head started pounding again when I thought about it, trying to remember where the term had come from.  
Gasping from the intensity, I slouched over where I sat. Alfred immediately had his arms around my shoulders, supporting me.  
"Dude, are you alright? What's wrong?" He asked, his voice tinged with panic.  
"I... Gah, maple..." I grunted. The doctor seemed oddly calm.  
"It's a rebound," He said curtly. When nobody answered, he continued, "From the memory he regained after he woke. It's not an uncommon thing; and the pain will decrease as he gets more and more memories. His brain is fighting with itself- it's trying to remember more, but it rejects the memories. Either they're too painful and it doesn't think it can handle them yet, or its unable to completely recover them."  
"But why would he reject them?" Alfred asked. The doctor frowned thoughtfully.  
"It varies from patient to patient, as well as the after effects."  
"After effects?" That was England. At least, I thought so.  
My eyelids had become heavy almost instantly after he had said that, slowly fluttering shut of their own accord. My body slumped against Alfred's completely. Everything felt heavy, sluggish.  
Steadily, everything closed out of existence as my world closed into black.

~America's PoV~  
Suddenly it felt like Mattie's entire body weight fell against my chest. I impulsively drew a heavy breath. I easily recovered however, slowing my breathing to match his.  
"Mattie..?" I whispered into his hair. No response. I blushed, readjusting my hold on him, trying not to wake the nation up. The doctor eyed us, a small smile playing on his lips.  
"After effects." He said pointedly. France smirked, laughing quietly.  
"Oui, apparently so." I zoned out after that, relishing in the feeling of Mattie's warmth. Another pang hit me. _He doesn't remember anything... 1812, the Revolutionary War, his independence, Native America... Nothing... I wonder what he last thought before going into Cardiac Arrest... Were they about me? France? England? Kumajiro, maybe?  
_ "You can take him home, if you want." The doctor said suddenly. It took all my willpower not to snap my head up and almost definitely wake Mattie.  
"What? Why? Don't you want to watch him for awhile?"  
"Normally if patients go back to sleep after the rare case of actually waking up, it takes another few days for them to properly wake up. But he woke up in no more then an hour later... Just make sure to watch him closely for a few days, and if things seem out of the ordinary bring him straight back," I nodded, grinning broadly, "And don't tell anyone. It's not my role to dispatch long-term patients." With that, he walked out of the room. I exchanges a look with Iggy and France, almost feeling my eyes sparkling.  
"I told you so." I laughed. Both the older nations scowled at me.  
"This is the only time I'll ever let you say that, mon ami." France said.  
"For once, I'm with the Frog." Iggy glared at me, silently saying 'Never bring this up again.'  
I only laughed in response, giving the sleeping Canadian a tight squeeze before scooping him up in my arms and heading home.

 **A/N: This style of chapter seems to be sticking... What do you guys think about it? Obviously not in this case, but looking at the others. A short start in the point of view of whoever ended the previous chapter, and then the rest of it in the other's? Not all will be like that (evidently,) but I'm just curious if y'all like it! n.n**  
 **I put in Alfie's PoV at the end cause I thought of that right after I finished writing and personally think it's adorable, so... Yep. That happened. Just to clarify, this IS brotherly!UsCan, however it's also romance. Because Hetalia logic, where one can be both a sibling and parent towards the same person.**  
 **Also, just as a side note, don't trust the facts about what I write about Post-Traumatic Amnesia. I did my research on it while writing this chapter and I've already mucked ninety nine percent of the facts up so I'll just continue on how I was initially planning on doing it. XD**  
 **As always, hope you guys enjoyed!**


	6. Chapter 6

~Canada's PoV~  
My eyes flickered open. I sat up, rubbing my pounding head and looking around.  
 _Where am I? This isn't the hospital..._ I breathed. The room was a relatively dark brown.  
"Is anyone there?" I called out. My voice sounded dry, even though I had just been sleeping. _How long has it been since I've been asleep, I wonder?  
_ A crack of light showed up from the corner of the room, widening. A figure walked in, a plate in one hand, the other manipulating the door.  
Alfred turned around, and a broad grin spread across his face.  
"Oh! Dude, you're awake! I thought you'd be soon, so I brought some food." I blinked. _What did he say about us...? Best friends, right?  
_ "Eh... Thanks." I said as he put the plate down beside me. There were flat, golden circles that were completely drenched in a brownish liquid.  
"Pancakes and maple syrup. They were your favourite before the... Accident. I figured they could help kindle some memories," He muttered as he sat down on the edge of the bed, "How's the head?" Reaching out a hand to touch my forehead, I swear his cheeks had reddened slightly at the action.  
"A-Alfred, you should be worried about yourself getting sick. You're red."  
"Wha-? Oh, um, yeah, sure. Sick. That's why. Yeah. Dude, I'll be fine. I don't get sick very easily. Dude..." He quickly retracted his arm, suddenly refusing to meet my eyes directly. _He said 'dude' twice though... Is he really okay?  
_ "I'm fine," He insisted, "Really."  
"Eh? How did you know what I-"  
"Things show pretty clearly on your face, bro. I always said you needed to work on that."  
"Bro..?"  
"I-I just call people that sometimes, as a replacement for 'dude,' you know? Bro?" He stumbled, "Man, for a guy with no memories, he sure does pick up a lot..."  
I didn't know if I was supposed to hear that last part, so I didn't mention it.  
"Well, Mattie, eat. Please. Okay? You have to be hungry. I'm not taking otherwise, dude." His speech was still awkward, but nonetheless I silently obliged.  
He sat there watching me as I ate, his blue eyes a flurry of emotions.  
"You sure you're alright though, Mattie?" He asked softly once I had finished eating. He took the plate and put it on a nearby table. I nodded slowly, hesitantly, before actually answering.

~America's PoV~  
"I just don't know what the right answer is anymore, Alfred. I don't know who I am. Who you are. What little I've remembered is one mass of faces and odd names, but I can't sort them out. And it drives me insane, because there's a voice inside me that says I should know. That I should remember everyone, but I _can't._ I can't even tell if they're real people."  
"Don't ever let the right or wrong answer stop you. It doesn't matter what the answer is, Matthew," I used his full name without really thinking about it, "What does matter is if you know what questions to ask."  
"How do I know what questions to ask if I don't know what's true or false?" He muttered, pulling his legs up to his chest and looking away. I smiled, patting his shoulder.  
"I'm here, Matthew. I'll always be here." Mattie paused, blinking slowly as he turned back to meet my gaze. He was silent for several seconds, just looking at me. I smiled reassuringly, before he drew a breath.  
"We're not really human. We're personifications of the countries involved the world. True or false?" I forced myself not to yelp in surprise. That wasn't one of the questions I had been expecting, at least not so soon.  
"True..." I muttered, "But, when did you-?"  
"I sorted it out from my first memory... People were calling each other names that didn't feel natural, and the same word kept going my head."  
"Personifications..." I breathed. He nodded slowly. "Do you know who you are?" I asked, a glimmer of hope. That glimmer died though, when he shook his head.  
"No. Nobody addressed me in the memory... It was like I wasn't even there, now that I think about it." A pan shot through my heart. I nodded.  
"You're..." I hardly stopped myself on time. He looked at me questioningly.  
"I'm...?"  
"I... Can't say. Sorry Mattie." I muttered.  
"I get it. There's a reason, isn't there?" I nodded in response.  
"I'm under orders from an old... Friend to not force any memories on you. Because we're basically living history, we can't afford to change your personality. None of us have ever gotten amnesia before, so there's no telling what could happen if one of us were altered because of memories coming back in the wrong order." _Because of Germany...  
_ "Because it would alter history..?"  
"For a dude with no memories, you're not exactly childish like normal. You still act like you remember everything. You're still faster than I am at piecing things together." He gave a short bark of laughter.  
"I'm glad it appears that way, because I've been nothing but lost this entire time, eh."  
"I can imagine." I smirked. He looked at me sidelong after a few minutes of silence. I cocked an eyebrow.  
"What?"  
"Who're you? Nation wise, I mean... I think I know, but I just want to make sure," He asked, then added hastily, "If you can tell me, that is."  
"I don't think there would be much of an issue if I did..." I stood up, taking a few large steps away from the bedside and bowing deeply.  
"United States of America, at your service. Also known as U.S, America, or Alfred F Jones. F stands for freedom," I stood up straight again, winking mischievously, "But you can just call me Alfred, or Al. Or Alfie, if you really want."  
"Duly noted," He laughed, "Do you always make a show of yourself?"  
"Depends on who you ask," I grinned cheekily, "I think I'm just unique."  
"Oh really? How so?" He dramatically kicked his legs over the side of the bed, leaning against his legs and looking at me patiently.  
"We nations tend to pick up the personality and quirks of our people. And us Americans are fun, to put it lightly."  
"How is that lightly?" He laughed again.  
"If you ask Iggy or really anyone else, they'll call me a gluttonous idiot. I just let them think what they want."  
"I will keep that in mind." Something hit me then as I looked into his violet eyes, which for the first time were sparkling joyfully.  
"Oh! Dude, that reminds me. There's someone I want you to meet!" I grabbed his hand, pulling him out of bed and towards the door. He looked back, unsure.  
"But, Alfie, the plate-"  
"I'll get it later. Come on!" I yanked him along, down the hall without giving the Canadian a chance to argue.  
"A-Al..."  
"Mattie, trust me. No questions."  
"I-It's not that..." I heard a small crash and whipped around. He had slumped against the wall, his eyes unfocused and he was unbalanced on his feet as if he were drunk.  
"Mattie?!" I asked worriedly, immediately grabbing him before he could fall over.  
"E-Everything's spinning..." He groaned. I mentally kicked myself for being such an idiot. _The guy hasn't walked in a century, and I pull him out of bed without giving him a chance to center himself? Stupid...  
_ "Take your time, dude." I said softly, lowering both of us so we were sitting on the carpeted floor.  
"America? M-Mister..?" A small voice said from a little way down the hall. I heard small paw steps approaching us and looked up.  
"Kuma, come on," I smiled encouragingly at the polar bear cub, "He's fine. Just dizzy is all." By the time I had finished talking, Kumajiro had jumped forward and crashed into Mattie's side. If a polar bear could be said to cry, there wasn't much doubt in my mind that the little guy would be.  
"M-Mister..."  
"Who...?" Mattie asked, raising a hand and rubbing his head. I saw Kuma's white pelt twitch and the cub looked over to me.  
"He doesn't know me..?" I shook my head.  
"He's lost his memories, Kuma. They'll come back over time... Meanwhile, you can't call him by his nation name or talk about anything that happened in the past. We need to let him remember himself. Got it?" I explained. The cub didn't answer, only nodded and faceplanted himself into Mattie's side again.  
"You... D-Don't remember y-yourself, Mister..." He said jerkily. Mattie pulled the cub into a gentle hug, his eyes a little more focused now. _I'm surprised he hasn't freaked out a polar bear cub is hugging him... Though I'm not even sure if he would remember that bears are generally dangerous, especially since Kumajiro's so friendly... Oh well. It's pretty cute, actually._ I smiled despite myself, watching the two.  
"No... I'm sorry, Kuma." The cub whimpered softly.  
"A-After e-everything I d-did..."  
"Kuma..?" I asked. The cub didn't answer for a few seconds.  
"I-I always remembered h-his n-name... I-I always a-asked him so h-he w-wouldn't forget himself... M-Mister went through s-so many names, I was a-always so s-scared he would o-one day f-forget h-himself... W-who h-he w-was..." I didn't think the cub could continue. I looked at Mattie, who was just sitting there watching him silently, stroking the soft white fur on his head. _Don't cry, Alfred. You're the hero... Heroes don't cry..._ Surprisingly enough, it was him that spoke next.  
"Kuma, it wasn't your fault that I lost my memory," _No, it was Germany's..._ "It wasn't the fault of anyone. I don't blame you. For anything. So don't blame yourself."  
"Mattie..." I said, so quietly it seemed like I was talking to myself. _Ironic... Normally he was the one who was never heard. Just now, though, he's the one that didn't hear. Maybe we'll never get the old Mattie back, whether memories are forced on him or not...  
_ "B-But Mister..."  
"Kuma." My voice hardened. The cub looked back at me for the first time, and I shook my head. Mattie's gaze flickered between us, but he said nothing. I silently thanked him. I didn't think Kumajiro fully understood what would happen if we reminded him of anything; and I couldn't blame him. He wasn't one of us, even if he was a bonded animal - a constant companion for a nation.  
We all had a natural aptitude for befriending animals, and certain creatures even decided to stay with us. None of us knew how, but those creatures became immortal, just like us. Norway, the wizard that specialized in creatures out of the other magic wielding nations, assumed that they became linked to our land after spending enough time with us, though he couldn't figure out why, or how.  
"Well, I should really get that plate..." I hastily dipped away, before stopping and looking back over my shoulder, "You'll be fine by yourself for a bit, Mattie?"  
"Yeah. I have Kuma." _Normally he would've put an 'eh' after that..._ My heart throbbed painfully at the realization. _I'm not sure if we'll ever get our soft-hearted Canadian back either way, Arthur...  
_ "Right," I laughed, not letting my doubt show, "Remember Kuma, no names or memories. Got it?" The cub nodded briefly and I turned back around, speed walking down the hall. _I finally have him back, I'm not letting Canada out of my sight for more then ten minutes. No way._

 **A/N: I FORGOT MY CLARINET FOR SCHOOL SO THIS IS BEING FINISHED IN MUSIC CLASS. *sob*  
Because of the mucked up format in the last chapter I didn't follow the old thing again; I'll be picking that back up next time. Also, I'm trying to keep Al in character, but it's really difficult. _ He's too much of a shits-and-giggles guy ninety percent of the time. That's probably one of my worst character personalities.  
I need to say this though... OH MY GOSH KUMAJIRO. THAT HONESTLY BROKE MY HEART TO WRITE. EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO TO MY CORNER AND SOB TO MYSELF. **


	7. Chapter 7

" _America, are you_ sure _we're going the right way?" Britain grunted, forcing a branch out of his path. France gave a few small, weakened jumps forward so he was standing beside me on the forest path.  
_ " _Amérique, I am 'aving some doubts about all zhis..." He murmured quietly. I shook my head.  
_ " _France, I know where he is."  
_ " _Oh really? Zhen where is 'e?"  
_ " _I... Don't know," When both him and Britain opened their mouths to protest I rapidly continued, "Not exactly! I can feel him. I know what direction he's in; not the exact place, or how far away it is." We had crossed into German territory a few days ago, so neither France nor Britain could sense him either. The only lead we had was my own instinct as a brother, a twin. And I knew if I screwed up, I wouldn't hear the end of it anytime soon.  
_ " _Bloody git..." Britain mumbled, but didn't complain any further.  
I silently thanked the British for not arguing. I hardly understand the connection between Mattie and I myself; I don't think I could explain it properly if anyone asked about it.  
_" _Angleterre, are you alright?" France asked Britain somewhere behind me.  
_ " _Shut up, Frog, and worry about your own bloody self for a change."  
I began muttering to myself as I forced my way through the bracken, yelling as one branch came back and whipped against my cheek. I felt a slow stream of something warm start forming on my cheek.  
I raised my hand, running it over where the sensation was, and pulled it away. It was thinly coded in a crimson liquid. Before I could complain about it, though, I felt a numbing sensation run through my right arm. Then, almost directly afterwards, my left arm went too. _I can't complain about a scratch. Not while Mattie must be going through pain a hundred times worse than whatever bracken can inflict on me.  
" _Hang on, Mattie... We're coming..." I breathed, whipping my face with my sleeve and continuing on before either Britain or France could ask why I had stopped.  
_ " _Just hang on..."_

~America's PoV~

 _"I don't have a sad past. I don't have a bright, or mysterious, costume. I don't have a mask. I don't have a mortal enemy. The military isn't useless, and New York isn't the setting. I'm not young, or even special. I don't have superpowers. I'm not a superpower. I'm not a hero, I am the Saviour."_

My eyes snapped open. What was that? I swear I had heard a voice just now... Who had it been? It was so brief; the short speech spoken in a voice I didn't recognize.  
"Al?" A voice asked. I turned towards the speaker. "Are you alright? You were muttering in your sleep."  
"Yeah, I'm fine, Mattie. Just a dream is all," I breathed, "Go back to sleep. You need it."  
"You're sure?" He asked. He sounded so worried... _I should be the one worrying about him. Not the other way around...  
_ "Really, I'm fine. You need your energy, Mattie. Go back to sleep." My brother didn't answer, only flopped back down on his side and closed his eyes. I waited a few minutes, until his breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm, before I kicked my legs over the side of the bed. As silently as I could, I got up.  
 _It's been several days since he's gotten any memories back. I've been keeping him close, just in case, but I need some fresh air...  
_ I walked through the dark halls, feeling my way with the walls. I didn't want to turn on the lights incase they woke up Mattie.  
I sighed as I got to the large glass doorway, jumbling for the handle and pulling it open. Almost right away, a cold wind whipped me in the face. I stumbled back a few steps from the force, looking down so the wind wasn't blowing directly into my glasses-less eyes. After adjusting to the weather, I stepped outside, immediately going over to the edge of the balcony.  
I leaned against the mahogany railing, staring into the starry night sky.  
"I'm not a hero, I am the Saviour... What does that mean? I always say I'm the hero, and I am, but.." I heard a small bark behind me, cutting off my train of thought.  
Turning around, I saw the young Border Collie puppy I had taken in a few months ago, her unique red and silver eyes twinkling up at me.  
I had found her on the side of the road, alone, and once I had spotted her I just couldn't walk away. So she was the newest member of the family, between the States and I.  
"Hey girl..." I muttered, kneeling down. She trotted up, licking my outstretched hand. "I still need to find a name for you, don't I?" I laughed lightly at the feeling of her small tongue on my hand. I ruffled the matted fur around her ears, sitting down with my back against the wooden posts. The puppy yipped, trotting over to my guitar, which was leaning against the side of the house.  
"You sure love that, don't you?" I grinned, my mind taken away from the dream as I stood up, walking over and grabbing the instrument before going back to my spot and sitting down.  
"I really need to learn how to say 'no' to ya before you learn to talk, little dudette..." I said absentmindedly as I strummed a few random chords, swiftly tuning it.  
She cocked her head, laying down against my leg, her eyes closing blissfully at the smooth sound of the acoustic.  
"Now, what should I play..."  
A song immediately came to mind; one that had been written for an old movie. One I had always loved, that told the story of the Western States, in the old days. Only, it was from the perspective of a wild mustang.  
While I had to follow along with the way the whole country was changing - more so with the big-city states than the wild west, a part of me had always remained in the saddle, on the rolling hills in the country. And that movie was another connection to my old life.  
Quietly, I began playing the song, singing the lyrics. Even though I hadn't heard them in years, I still remembered every word, every note. I never really understood that with music; it had an almost magical way of always sticking with you over time.

"Sound the bugle now,  
Play it just for me.  
As the seasons change,  
Remember how I used to be.  
Now I can't go on,  
I can't even start.  
I've got nothing left,  
Just an empty heart.  
I'm a soldier,  
Wounded so I,  
Must give up the fight.  
There's nothing more for me.  
Lead me away.  
Or leave me lying here."

~Canada's PoV~  
I again woke up to a muffled sound. Turning over in my covers, I blinked to focus my eyes.  
"...Al?" I called out to the darkness.  
No answer.  
I called again.  
"Alfie?"  
Again, nothing.  
"America, where are you?"  
By now, I had kicked off the blankets and stood up. _I thought he said he was fine! Where is he?  
_ I heard someone talking, but not normally. _That's Al's voice..._ I realized, remembering it among the scarce number of voices I remembered that had a name pairing.  
Slowly, I followed it, struggling a little from my wobbly sleep-legs.  
Eventually I reached a door I hadn't seen yet, that led outside. Alfie was sitting there, with a wooden thing in his grip that he was using to make the... _What was it?_ I thought, forcing through the sudden pounding of my head that I now realized came whenever I tried remembering something.  
Three words came to mind.  
 _That's a guitar, and he's playing it... And singing..?  
_ There was a bundle of pale ginger and white fur curled up beside his leg. _An animal..? Since when-?  
_ My thoughts trailed off as I listened to his voice. The words seemed to pull me in, as if I could personally relate to them.  
Hoping I could remember something else about who, or what, I was, I zoned everything out except the music.

"Sound the bugle now.  
Tell them I don't care.  
There's not a road I know,  
That leads to anywhere.  
Without a light,  
I fear that I will stumble in the dark.  
Lay right down.  
Decide not to go on.  
Then from on high,  
Somewhere in the distance,  
There's a voice that calls,  
'Remember who you are.'  
If you lose yourself,  
Your courage soon will follow,  
So be strong tonight.  
Remember who you are.  
Yeah.  
You're a soldier now,  
Fighting in a battle.  
To be free once more.  
Yeah,  
That's worth fighting for."

"You're a great singer, Al." I said softly, stepping out from behind the curtain I had started leaning against.  
He jerked upwards, staring at me with wide eyes.  
"What?! Mattie, ya scared me for a minute there!" A hint of an accent crept into his voice that hadn't been there before. Now that I thought about it, though, it had started appearing at certain parts in the song. _Odd... I didn't even notice listening to him sing at first... Maybe I had been used to it before the accident a few years ago..?  
_ "Eh... Sorry, Alfie. I just didn't want to interrupt your song..." I hastily started apologizing. He merely laughed though, shaking his head and mumbling something about 'typical him...' before jerking his head to the side.  
"It's fine dude, really. I don't mind, I just didn't know you were there. Come over here." He stood up. The furball, a puppy, had shot upwards excitedly  
I obliged, stepping out into the cold night air, the pyjamas he had loaned me fluttering in the breeze.  
"Who's this?" I asked, kneeling down and ruffling the pups speckled red face.  
"I found her a few months ago, alone. Couldn't just leave her, ya know?" I sensed that he wasn't saying the whole story, but I didn't push the question. _There seems to be a reason as to why he does everything, no matter how hidden it may be.  
_ Rather, I simply nodded, standing up and leaning against the railing. He followed suit.  
We were silent, standing there together and looking up at the sky.  
"We used to ride together all the time, you know," He started speaking suddenly. I turned towards him in surprise, "We just got together and saddled up whenever we felt like it. Sometimes we'd go through the hills, sometimes the woods. Often it would be overnight trips. We did everything together..." Al looked over at me, meeting my gaze sadly.  
"I'm sorry, Alfie." I said softly. He shook his head.  
"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I know how tough this must be for you. I shouldn't get lost in thought like that. You should worry about remembering who you are before I start throwing a bunch of angsty things on you. It ain't right."  
"It's actually kind of nice, hearing about those things," I smiled reassuringly, "Plus, it adds to the mystery." Alfie laughed at that.  
"So, you've started thinking of your memory loss as a game, then? Good to know you can take it so easily now."  
"Not really... It just makes me want to find out who I am even more," I remembered something I had wanted to ask, "One thing, though... I'm also a Personification. True or false."  
"True." He answered immediately, clearly not thinking of the consequences. I nodded before continuing.  
"Then, I was asleep for a lot longer than a few years, wasn't I..? True or false." His breathing hitched, catching in his throat, and he doubled over slightly. He let out a cough before hotly replying.  
"True... How did you figure that out?" _Maple, how the hell do I answer that?  
_ "I just had a feeling that it was longer. I can't really explain it... Just a long term sorrow inside me that feels like it's been caged up for so many years I can't even begin to count how many." I saw him freeze, his arm muscles tensing up. _What's wrong with him..?  
_ "A-Alfie, what's-"  
"It's nothing. Nothing important, anyways..." He trailed off, once again refusing to meet my gaze. _I know he said he couldn't tell me anything, but he's definitely hiding something...  
_ "Are you sure?" I asked gently.  
"Yeah."  
We stood together in a now awkward silence. His head fell down between his shoulders after several minutes had gone by.  
"Look, Mattie, it's just... Sorry."  
"You sure are apologizing a lot tonight, Al." I grinned, prodding him with my arm.  
An odd feeling ran through it, shuddering down my spine. I paused. _It almost felt like my arm wasn't there for a moment._ I thought. _I wonder if it has something to do with whatever happened to make me fall asleep however long ago...  
_ Breathing became difficult, an exercise, like something was clogging my throat.  
"A.. Amer..." I gasped out, not noticing I had used his Personification name.  
"Mattie? What's wrong? You're so pale suddenly..."  
"I... I don't..." _Why the hell can't I breath?!  
_ "Mattie?" My legs shook, before giving out from underneath me, "Matthew!" I dimly heard a startled yelp and paws scampering away when my body crashed to the ground.  
"It... Hurts..." I wheezed. _Where... Did this come from...? Why does it feel like my arms aren't there? Why does my whole body hurt so much...?  
_ "Matthew, stay awake, damnit..." I cracked my eyes open. _Odd... When did they close..?  
_ "A-Al, your hands..." They were covered in a deep, crimson liquid.  
"Don't. Don't talk." He grumbled, then proceeding to mumble a few words under his breath. I felt him pull something off my head. _What...? Must be his glasses...  
_ I didn't know anything except an unbearable pain as the night sky slowly faded into total dark.

~America's PoV~  
What the fuck just happened?  
One moment we're talking, and the next thing I know, he just collapses, and his hundred-year-old wounds open up. And start bleeding.  
A lot.  
I pulled off my bombers jacket hastily, wrapping and knotting it around his left arm. _It looks like that's the one bleeding the most... What the hell is going on with him?_ _What's going on with my brother? I need to call the British dude...  
_ I waved my hand, sending small crimson beads flying everywhere before reaching into my pocket.  
"Hey girl, go find Kumajiro for me, will you?" I asked the red Collie. She gave a high pitched bark before turning around and galloping into the house in search of the polar bear.  
Watching her sprint on her small legs for a few moments, I recollected my thoughts and looked at the screen, dialing England's number and keeping pressure on the arm that wasn't tied with my jacket with my free hand. I clicked on the earpiece I normally always kept on my person. _Thank God for Bluetooth... I don't think I could do this with one hand..._ When the ringing finally ended to the familiar British accent, I drew in a deep breath.  
"America? What the bloody hell do you want?"  
"MattiefellunconsciousandhisoldwoundshavereopenedandI'mworriedabouthowmuchthey'rebleedinfbecausethey'rebleedingalotandIdon'tknowwhattododude!"  
"Slow down, America! I can't understand a word you're saying!"  
"We were talking and he just suddenly collapsed and starting saying things about how much it hurt and his old wounds have opened up and they're bleeding a lot and I didn't know who else to call!"  
Silence.  
"Did you do or say anything to stimulate any memories?"  
Now I was silent.  
"No. Yes... Maybe?"  
"America! I need a straight answer!"  
"Well, how the heck should I know?! I just said that we used to go on overnight trail rides together! Nothing about you-know-what!"  
"'You-know-what'? Is he still awake? I thought you said he had collapsed?" I heard his disapproval. _Could telling him that really be what caused this..?  
_ "No, but he might still be able to hear me!"  
"Alright, alright, but what exactly is going on? Calmly, please. I don't need you to be rabbiting on." _You're causing unnecessary babble by saying you don't need it though...  
_ "He's bleeding from the cuts on his arms and throat, and all legs and arms look like they're numbed again."  
"I'll be there as soon as I can, America. Just... Try to stop the bleeding. And check for any teargas. If he looks like he's numbing up again, there must be some still in his body that's just come out somehow. Wounds are one thing, but paralyzing effects don't just happen to us like that."  
"Right... Please hurry, Iggy... This is... Giving me unwanted déjà-vu..." I clicked off the bluetooth, before going back too Mattie.  
"Unrelenting and unbreakable..."  
"What?" _What's he saying?  
_ "You did the best you could, and it still wasn't good enough..." He muttered. His head tossed to the side, his back stiffening, "Get me out...!" That's when everything fell into place. _But how? He shouldn't be remembering this! Not yet!  
_ "Mattie, you aren't there anymore, dude! It's just a dream!"  
He didn't respond, but fell still at my voice.  
"I need to get him inside..." I thought out loud, picking him up as carefully as I could. Checking for signs of that teargas would just have to wait until he had calmed down.  
He let out a short, pain-filled scream as I moved his body.  
"I know, bro. I'm sorry. I know it hurts." I told the Canadian repeatedly.  
"Unrelenting and unbreakable..." _There it is again. I wonder what it means?_

 **A/N: Ok, screw an official chapter format. Things keep popping up that change it. XD  
I'm not giving them a break. Poor Mattie's done hardly known anything so far except... Well, falling unconscious... Or falling asleep... Or getting dizzy... Or losing his perfect vision...  
Pfffffffft, WHAT. I'M NICE TO MY CHARACTERS. HONESTLY, I REALLY DO LOVE THEM. WHETHER THEY'RE ACTUALLY MINE OR NOT. (Only OC thus far is the pup. Deemed that necessary.)  
I'm also starting to run out of ideas as to how to say that he's gone under. It's gonna get repetitive, sadly...  
At least he'd get good at collapsing to the point he doesn't hit his head, maybe..? To be perfectly honest, I wasn't planning on this happening (yet). It just kinda took off on it's own after Mattie saw the puppy. So, hopefully it's not too awkward.  
Still~~~  
SO MANY FOLLOWERS! o-o  
YOU GUYS ARE SO FREAKING AWESOME!  
I present all you awesome peeps with Doitsu's Majestic Potato.  
I just realized I've been forgetting to say this for the past couple chapters... HOPE Y'ALL ENJOYED!**

 **DISCLAIMER** **: I don't own Sound the Bugle - Bryan Adams does.  
Or, at least, he owns the singing rights to it...  
It's from my favourite childhood movie, Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron; which also happens to be my first animated movie. In my own memory, at least...  
Yeah.  
I don't own it.  
That's the point here. XD  
I just thought it was a good fit for those two right now...  
Sorry if any of the lyrics are wrong. I do them myself instead of googling them, for whatever reason, so a couple could be messed up. It's a pretty clearly worded song though, so I doubt it, but...  
I'll be implementing a lot of varying songs for some moments. Hopefully that doesn't bug anyone... I just feel like it adds to the moment, somehow... Also, lyrics'll be centered on the page, whether one of the dudes are singing them or not...  
(Plus the moments are fun to write, so... BONUS! XD)  
Yeah.  
Patriotic-Canadian-Fangirling-musical-Equestrian-author-who-loves-to-draw.  
MY LIFE, EVERYONE. XD  
LATAH!**

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 **P.S: You guys are Prussia-awesome.**  
 **JUST DON'T TELL PRUSSIEPIE I SAID THAT!**  
 ***France in the background hon-hon-hon-ing***  
 **I read all your guys' reviews, too. I'm just highly forgetful so I might not respond every time... Sorry 'bout that... n.n; I do really love and appreciate the support, though, even if I don't directly acknowledge it.**  
 **I try my best but.. *grumble* Stupid ADHD...**  
 **Oh well. I've dragged this on long enough.**  
 **Now, for the LAST time~**  
 **YOU GUYS ARE SO TOTALLY AWESOME!**  
 **LATAH PEEPS!**


	8. Chapter 8

~America's PoV~  
"Unrelenting and unbreakable..." He kept on repeating that. I didn't know why.  
"It's probably something that he told himself during the torture," England had told me when he first got here, "Some people do that. It's a form of reassurance for them when hope can seem lost."  
"But why would he need that? He's strong! Both physically and mentally. He earned the name 'Stormtroopers' from one of his greatest enemies!"  
"We're talking about _Germany's_ torture methods here, America. Especially when he had been in such a mental state, and knowing that Canada was truly the one who ended the war, I don't even want to imagine what he had put him through." Unable to think of anything else to say, I simply asked;  
"Why do you always insist on using our nation names, Iggy?"  
"Why do you always insist on calling me that stupid nickname?" When I hadn't given an answer, he had pursed his lips and shooed me out of the room. "Get going, now. I can't do magic with you distracting me."  
The conversation had ended there.

Now, I sat outside in the hall impatiently. Kumajiro and the puppy we with me.  
"America, do you know if Mister will be okay?" The bear cub asked me. I smiled gently.  
"It's just something we'll have to get used too, Kuma. It's going to happen quite often. He'll be fine. I promise."  
He didn't answer.  
"Unrelenting and unbreakable..." I repeated the words to myself, trying to figure out exactly what they had meant, "Arrggggghhhhh I can't do this! I need McDonalds before I can do this!"  
"Amérique, 'onestly. You are 'opeless."  
"Wha-?"  
"What? You seriously thought zhat I would get an alert like this from Angleterre and not come? Matthieu is my family too, tu sais."  
"Yeah yeah. So, the British dude told you..?" I was too braindead at this point to question the fact that France was in my house.  
"Oui. 'e did."  
"Greaaaat." France sighed at my grunt.  
"Mon dieu, Amérique. 'ere." He pulled out a bag.  
"Dude, are you serious?" My eyes widened.  
"Just eat, stupide Américan. Tu a le gagner. You deserve it."  
"Thanks, bruh!" I smiled for the first time in the past few hours, pulling the Big Mac out of the bag and biting into it hungrily.  
France watched me wearily out of the corner of his eyes, sighing and muttering something else about 'stupid Americans.'

~Canada's PoV~  
The pain was filling me too a breaking point, until there was nothing else there. It was almost like I was the pain, the very being of it.  
 _Why...?_  
 _This feels so familiar..._  
 _What's going on..?_  
The walls around me were shadowy, uneven rocks.  
"Unrelenting and unbreakable..." I heard an eerily familiar voice murmur, "Unrelenting and unbreakable... That's me, right...? I can be an independent nation... I know I can... I can't break, I can't relent..." It was at that moment I realized the voice belonged to me. _How? But I'm not talking..._  
"I am Canada, after all..." _Canada? Is that... Who I am? As a nation...?_  
"Germany, let me out of here!" My body lurched on its own, and a stab of pain shot through it like a jolt of lighting.  
"Nien, Stormtrooper. Zhat, I vill not do. Not until you know vhat my people are feeling; zhe agony zhat every one of zhem feels."  
"This isn't right, though! Do you have any scrap of humanity left?!"  
He leaned down so he could talk in a quiet voice, one that somehow scared me much more than his previous yelling.  
"Zhere is no humanity in var, Stormtrooper. I zhought you knew zhat." With a crazy laugh, he backed off, leaving me writhing in anger and pain against the chains that kept me strapped to the wall.  
 _Germany..._ An inexplicable wave of fury rushed over me as the name settled into place.

Then the pain vanished.  
The cell I was in spun around in a blur, the murky black vanishing.  
When things came back into focus, I was standing on a dirt path. A warm feeling of excitement and expectation felt like it was about to burst inside me.  
I realized I was a lot closer to the ground than I normally am.  
A head that was covered in full, long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail with a ribbon peaked over the crest of the hill. He had on a blue, long militia coat and sky blue eyes. An indescribable, gleefully feeling overwhelmed me as my tiny legs started moving seemingly of their own accord.  
I ran forward across the field, leaping the last couple meters and flying into his arms. He grabbed me into a tight hug, spinning around in a circle from the impact.  
"Papa! You're here!" Little me cried, tightening my hold around his neck. He did the same.  
"Quoi, mon petit Maple Leaf? Tu penserais que j'oublierai ton fête? What kind of a person do you think I am?" _Maple Leaf...? Isn't that what France called me that one time? Come to think of it, this guy does look similar to him..._ He laughed, giving me one last hug before putting me down.  
"You said you might not have been able to make it in your letter, though..." I whimpered, my eyes pricking with tears.  
"Non, non, mon petit. Je j'aimais le manquer. Je te promis."  
"Tu devras pas! Je vas te rappeler chaque année pour te souviens!" I smiled, before grabbing his hand and pulling him up the path.  
"Come on! The others are all waiting for you, Papa!" _Papa?_  
"Okay, okay, Matthieu." He smirked as he walked after me.

I coughed, jerking upwards on the bed. Nostalgia immediately washed over me as I did so. _It feels like that's the one thing I'm always doing nowadays, getting up from bed..._  
"Ca- Matthew?"  
"I know who I am, England..." I breathed out, "You don't need to hide it from me. What I need is to see America." He gave me a questioning look, but didn't say anything as he walked over to the door, opening it just enough to crack his head out.  
"America," There was a short but tense silence, "Frog."  
"Black sheep of Europe." Came the hot, heavily French-accented reply. I felt a twinge in my heart at the familiar voice. I stood up quietly, freezing when I tried but couldn't move my right arm. I looked down at it, only to see heavy bandaging. _How the hell did I not feel this..? Eh..._ I thought. I ended up passing it off as due to being from the fact I had just woken up, however.  
"Mattie?"  
"Call me Canada, will you?" I snapped without thinking. Though, I didn't exactly regret it.  
"Wha-? You remember?"  
"I'll ask once more what happened before I went into cardiac arrest again, America." I glared at him, anger starting to swirl around in my gut.  
"Please tell me that isn't really what you remembered..."  
"Answer the question."  
"I-" He looked over his shoulder desperately, towards the door. My gaze followed his and saw England and France standing there. My eyes narrowed, glittering dangerously.  
"I want the truth. I don't care who it comes from." I growled.  
"Maple Leaf..." France started. My eyes widened slightly at the name, my eyes widening slightly.  
"Why do you always call me that, France? You're the only one that does, aren't you?" I took a step back from the three of them. Everything was swimming through my head, messed up to the point it was impossible for me to define anything. "Just who are you guys? Who are you to me? Who am I?" I asked in quick succession, my eyes darting between all three of them. _I don't know what's real and what's not. This is worse than knowing nothing at all!_  
"Mattie..." Before I knew what was going on, Al had his arms around me. "I told you... We can't say anything like that, dude."  
I sighed, closing my eyes and resting my head on his shoulder, fatigue suddenly coming over me. Though I didn't let it overwhelm me.  
"I know, but..." I drew a breath, "I just..." A part of me wanted to cry. But the tears just wouldn't come.  
"I'll say this, Mattie. It might help you remember some things, without directly reminding you of anything." He said, pulling away and holding my eyes steadily.  
"Ame-"  
"England, shut up. He knows who he is now. I can say this."  
"Bloody hell, you'll be the death of me..." America took a deep breath, before talking again.  
"Geography has made us neighbors. History has made us friends. Economics has made us partners. And necessity has made us allies. Those whom nature hath so joined together, let no man be put asunder. What unites us is far greater than what divides us."  
"What?" I tried processing it. _What unites us is far greater than what divides us... Is that something about the relationship between our countries? And why does it sound so familiar?_ For whatever reason, though, it calmed me down. _Maybe because it's focused my thoughts... The memories have paused, at least..._  
"Amérique, zhe last thing Matthieu needs is more riddles in 'is 'ead." France muttered.  
"No, it's fine, France..." I pulled away America, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. "I just need an answer... We're a family. True or False?" Al sat down beside me.  
"Vrai, mon Maple Leaf." Came the French reply. I sighed, dropping my head.  
"Than, I have a request for you guys..." I said softly.  
"Anything, Canada." That was England.  
"I... I need to see Germany. I need to talk to him."

 **A/N: Starting off with I'm sorry about that A/N last chapter... It was a bit- *friend glares at me through the screen* ... Ok, VERY excessive. I'm actually highly anti-social in real life... I was just very excited. And when that happens... That.. Happens... So, um.. Sorry about that. n.n;**  
 **And sorry this is so short, and that it's been so, SO long... I've been super-duper lugged down by homework. But, thankfully, LAST WEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS BREAK! The last one was super long, too, so balance, I guess.**  
 **And, I'm a little stumped... Should I boost the rating of this fic to M? I've been debating doing so, but half of me says it's not as graphic as it should be to raise it.**  
 **Though, as always, hope y'all enjoyed this!  
**

 **English to French Translations:**  
 **Quoi, mon petit Maple Leaf? Tu penserais que j'oublierai ton fête?: What, my little Maple Leaf? You think I would forget your birthday?**  
 **Non, non, mon petit. Je j'aimais le manquer. Je te promis.: No, no, my little (one.) I would never miss it. I promise.**  
 **Tu devras pas! Je vas te rappeler chaque année pour te souviens!: You'd better not! I'll remind you every year to make sure you remember!**  
 **Vrai: True**

 **DISCLAIMER: The quote Al told Mattie isn't mine; John F. Kennedy said it. Americans might (probably) know that; Canadians might (less probably) know that; and yet, for some reason, I've never heard it in the UsCan fandom. Despite it being "ERMAGERDDDDD *dies*" for the ship.**


	9. Chapter 9

~Canada's PoV~  
"I just need an answer... We're a family. True or False?" Al sat down beside me.  
"Vrai, mon Maple Leaf." Came the French reply. I sighed, dropping my head.  
"Than, I have a request for you guys..." I said softly.  
"Anything, Canada." That was England.  
"I... I need to see Germany. To talk to him."  
"What? Why?" Al blurted. I grinned halfheartedly.  
"Because... I just have too."  
"No you don't, dude! Not yet!"  
"Maple, Al, I won't shut up about it until I do. You do realize that, right?" He didn't reply to that.  
"I'll go alone if I have too," I stood up, despite having just sat down, and walked over to the door. "I just figured you guys wouldn't like that very much, eh?" Looking over my shoulder with a small smirk dancing over my lips, I turned and walked out of the room, going back down the hall.  
Kumajiro stumbled after me, surprised by my sudden appearance.

~America's PoV~  
"Fruk you, Amérique. Zhis is your fault, you know zhat." France growled at me after Mattie had left.  
"Yeah, well, u suk, Frenchie." I growled back, returning his sharp glare evenly. England groaned, stepping between us.  
"Bloody hell, will you two wankers just shut up?" He cut off our possible argument before it even started, and turned a wary gaze back towards the door. "I'll go book the flight to Germany's place if neither of you are going to do it."  
"Nah, dude, I'll get it." With a final glare towards France, I walked out of the room. Heaving a sigh as I turned away from the corner before the others could follow me out, I started running down the hall after my brother just as he was turning a corner.  
"Yo, Mattie! Dude! Wait up, bro! You can't just leave the hero behind!"  
Though, one thought kept running through my mind as I did.  
 _Mattie, for your own sake, I sure hope you know what you're doing..._

 **A/N: I. Am. Actually. So. Sorry. For. This.  
I hit a complete and utter case of writers block for Amnesia, and this morning I realized it's been over a week and the only stuff I've written are other fics that I'm currently putting together. So I needed something to just get this moving along. And, because it was so deathly short, I decided to put in a little joke. (No, those weren't typos. XD I'm not THAT careless.)  
This is going to give me nightmares... I can't stress how sorry I am. _  
However, I know my accents a little better now, too! So the wait wasn't all for naught!  
As always, hope you enjoyed this (** _ **very**_ **short...) chapter!**

 **483 words.  
Gah.  
That has to be a world record or something...**


	10. Chapter 10

We were all walking down the hall together when I heard footsteps coming closer.  
"Oi, Canada! America!" A voice called for me from behind, causing all four of us to stop and look.  
"What? What're you dudes-" Al's attempt at speech was cut off by two people.  
"You idiot Mexican! He might not have remembered! I thought I lectured you about that!" Suddenly there was a sound that sounded like a fist colliding with a skull, and a body came flying down the hall, crashing into the wall at the end. I turned towards the black haired male, my eyes wide. I noticed England and France were both either as surprised or shocked as I was by the flying man. Al just sighed, rubbing his temples.  
"Can you two not, maybe? For once?"  
"Hot and cold, idiot American. Hot and cold." A girl came walking down. She had seemingly long brown hair, though I couldn't quite tell how long, since it was in a braid down her back. She had earmuffs around her neck, along with a long, dark red coat, black pants and boots.  
I shivered as my eyes ran over the coat, the colour bringing in unnecessary, newly regained memories and reminding me of my new purpose in life. _Germany... I don't care what they say, I need to see him...  
_ "Ehhh? You know these two? Do I?" I covered up that thought with a very real surprise.  
"So, the Canadian doesn't remember, huh?"  
"Not yet, dudette... It hasn't been very long. Give him some time." Al muttered, "At least, not you guys. He knows he's Canada. Either way, what the hell are you both doing here? I didn't think you could stand each other."  
"We can't, idiot. We just happened to come by and see Matthew at the same time."  
"Right..." Glaring at the girl accusingly, he turned his gaze back towards the boy, who was just picking himself up.  
"Give it a rest, chica. You know you like me."  
"As if!"  
"Dudes! Chill!"  
They both stopped arguing before it could turn into something more, and the boy was the first one to speak.  
"By the way, amigo," José nudged Al in the ribs, "The sky's real clear out tonight. Perfect for stargazing." Him and Dahlia exchanged a knowing look with France and England, all four smirking. Al, meanwhile, was blushing furiously.  
"¿P-P-P-Por qué diría usted que, José?" He snapped rapidly in a different language, one I assumed to be his native one. The ravenette's smirk grew.  
"Oh, amigo, we've all realized quite some time ago. Just admit it~."  
"Shut it, you idiot. Let's just leave them alone." Dahlia snapped, before abruptly punching the man, sending him flying down the hall once again. She sent a glare over to England and France, who both quickly scurried after him, neither having said a word this entire time.  
I looked over to Al, who flushed a deeper red and looked away. I laughed lightly at his reaction, and waited until we heard the front door shut until I spoke.  
"You know what that was all about?" I asked the American. He jumped, looking back at me.  
"N-n-n-no, definitely not!" He stuttered, still clearly embarrassed. I smirked, raising an eyebrow and dancing in front of him. I poked his ribs, in a similar fashion José had done moments before.  
"There's something you aren't telling me, Alfie. I know it." He batted my hand away, still not looking into my eyes.  
"Mattie, I know your weaknesses. Don't push my buttons."  
"Oh? That's sounds suspiciously like a challenge." Ignoring his warning completely, I looked at him slyly, continuing to jab at him.  
He tried ignoring it for maybe five seconds before he caved, tackling me to the ground and pinning me there.  
"A-Alfie?" I gasped, laughing harder and ignoring the sudden pain that was sent through my body from the bandaged wounds. "What are you?"  
"I told you not to push my buttons, Mattie." He smiled evilly, wriggling his fingers in front of my face. An ominous, fearful feeling began to grow within me, as well as a feeling of pure joy and excitement.  
Before I could argue, there was a jolt on both my sides. I squealed, which turned into high pitched laughter, my body instinctively trying to twist away from it - though there wasn't much success, because Al was sitting on me, - to get it away. It didn't though. If anything, the sensation grew. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to get the almost painful, yet oddly happy, feeling away.  
"You've always been ticklish, Mattie." I could sense the grin behind his words. Even though I tried, I couldn't open my eyes until what felt like ages later, when it finally vanished and I felt Al's weight leave my hips. The place where he had been sitting grew cold quickly, as if a part of me had left too.  
I opened my eyes weakly to see him standing above me, holding out a hand, his cornflower blue eyes dancing lightly.  
"Let's check out that sky now, shall we?" He smirked. I laid my head back down, the broad grin never once leaving my face as I caught my breath. After a couple moments, I grabbed his outstretched hand, and he pulled me up to my feet.  
"Maple... Never... Do that... Again... Alfie..." I breathed, resting my head against his shoulder from a sudden wave of dizziness.  
He waited until I had pulled back before giving me a thumbs up.  
"Sorry, bruh! A hero must never tell lies! Especially not your personal hero!"  
"AL!" Despite my protest though, his words had my heart racing. _W-why? Why do I feel so warm from that..? I've gotten used to his 'Hero' quirks by now...  
_ "What?" He looked away innocently, before grabbing my hand and pulling me down to the balcony, on the way clicking on the radio and turning up the volume so we'd be able to hear it. He led me out to the balcony in silence while the music got started.  
"A-Alfie-"  
"Shh. Last time we were out here didn't go so well. Let's just appreciate it this time, alright?"  
"I-It's not t-that..." _He hasn't let go of my hand yet..._ Though, a part of me didn't want to say anything. Part of me wanted to keep it locked in Al's sure, warm grip.  
"What, then?" He asked, turning away from the stars to look at my face. When he saw the blush that I felt creeping across my cheeks, his eyes widened slightly and he blushed as well. I felt his hand quickly slip away from mine.  
"Sorry, Mattie, I just... Um... I..."  
"No, it's fine, actually." I smiled, securing his hand in my own again. He just looked away, turning back to the stars. I followed suit, and we stood there together in silence for awhile.  
Once a new song had started, I felt him tense up, and he looked over at me nervously.

 **A/N: I honestly completely forgot about the whole glasses issue, so let's just say that they came in very soon after Mattie got home, during those few days of the timeskip, shall we..? For argument's sake... n.n;  
Sorry 'bout that...  
Welp, I hope you guys like my OC, Greenland! However brief their appearance was... (Mexico`s profile is on the wiki, if you`re curious. He isn`t mine.) She`ll both be important in another fic I`m putting together (Nordic 5. MWAHAHA n.n), and possibly later on in this one.  
As always, hope you guys enjoyed! Next chapter coming up right away!**

 **English to Spanish (Sorry if it's wrong; I used a translator...):  
¿Por qué diría usted que, José?: What makes you say that, José?**


	11. Chapter 11

~America's PoV~  
When I heard the familiar guitar chords come on, I looked at Matthew, debating for a few seconds before licking my lips nervously and fully turning towards him.  
"Mattie. I love this song!" I grinned, gently pulling him away from the ledge. "C'mon, let's dance!"  
"Eh, Alfred... This sounds like a slow song-" The Canadian blushed as I yanked him close, a light blush dusting my own cheeks.  
"I know. Let's just dance." I smiled at him. He obliged, albeit nervously, and laid his head on my shoulder as I wrapped my arms around him loosely.

 _"I'd never gone with the wind,_  
 _Just let it flow._  
 _Let it take me where it wants to go._  
 _'Til you open the door,_  
 _There's so much more,_  
 _I'd never seen it before."_

At some point I had started singing along, quietly humming the lyrics into Mattie's hair.

 _"I was trying to fly,_  
 _But I couldn't find wings,_  
 _But you came along and you changed everything."_

We were slowly rocking back and forth to the music, and I was desperately trying to calm my racing heart, convinced he could hear it. Why did I ever ask him to dance? He was still regaining his memories; England has specifically warned me not to do anything before he got them all back... It would only make him even more confused... _Shut up, Alfred, and just enjoy the moment._ I told myself that and closed my eyes, breathing in his maple-syrup scent.

 _"You lift my feet off the ground,_  
 _You spin me around,"_

He laughed lightly as I tightened my grip on his back, swinging him around in circles as it entered the chorus.

 _"You make me crazier, crazier,_  
 _Feels like I'm falling and I am lost in your eyes,_  
 _You make me crazier, crazier, crazier._  
 _I've watched from a distance as you made life your own._  
 _Every sky was your own kind of blue,_  
 _And I wanted to know how that would feel,_  
 _And you made it so real._  
 _You showed me something that I couldn't see,_  
 _You opened my eyes,_  
 _And you made me believe."_

 _I think I'm starting to learn what that dream meant… I am a hero still, but I'm also a saviour. And a saviour, a hero, always has their own hero, someone that keeps them grounded, someone that keeps them fighting… They always have their own mask..._  
 _I wonder how he would react… If I told him he was my mask… My hero..._

 _"You lift my feet off the ground,_  
 _You spin me around,_  
 _You make me crazier, crazier._  
 _Feels like I'm fallin' and I am lost in your eyes,_  
 _You make me crazier, crazier, crazier,_  
 _Oh oh."_

 _Please, Mattie… Don't go see Germany. Not yet…_ I prayed silently, closing my eyes and tightening my hug ever so slightly, as if to protect him, to keep him in my arms. _I don't think I could trust him around you… Not yet. Please..._

 _"Baby you showed me what living is for,_  
 _I don't wanna hide anymore,_  
 _Oh oh."_

 _I don't think… I could bare to go through that… Not again… Thinking you were dead, thinking you had left us… Left me…_  
I forced those thoughts out of my head, forcing myself to just focus on the warmth emanating from the Northern Nation in my arms.  
 _He's with me now. That's all that matters, you idiot. And I'm never letting him go again..._

 _"You lift my feet off the ground,_  
 _You spin me around,_  
 _You make me crazier, crazier._  
 _Feels like I'm fallin' and I am lost in your eyes,_  
 _You make me crazier, crazier, crazier,_  
 _Crazier, crazier."_

As the song came to a close, I started to pull away, but Mattie tightened his grip.  
"Alfie, let's just... Stay like this.. For a bit." I blushed deeper than before, my mind racing, but nonetheless I resecured my hold on him.  
He was silent for several minutes, but I wasn't complaining. Suddenly, his head shot up and he abruptly forced himself away from me. I froze, surprised by his sudden movement.  
"A-Al, I'm sorry, I-I..." He turned away from me, taking a few steps towards the stairs.  
I jumped after him, grabbing onto his wrist. He turned back, slight fear in his violet eyes as he stared into my blue ones. My mouth was open, but I couldn't form any words.  
Without thinking, I slammed my lips against his. I couldn't do it anymore; couldn't not tell him how I felt. _Sorry, Iggy..._  
He was shocked, his whole body tensing up for a few moments before he relaxed, melting into the kiss.  
After a few moments, we pulled away, and it registered what I had just done. Slowly I backed away, panic starting to show in my eyes. Before I could take two steps though, he grabbed my arm and tried pulling me close again.  
I was in the middle of a step, though, and my body wouldn't stop. The force tipped me off balance, and we both crashed to the ground in a tangled heap. His head hit the ground, and the impact of the rest of him landing on top of me knocked the wind out of my lungs.  
"E-Eh, ow..." Mattie moaned, letting go of my arm and rubbing the spot where he had hit the wood balcony.  
"Dude, you okay?" I wheezed.  
He blinked, nodding, and we both started laughing.  
"Maple, Al, don't just kiss me and just try to leave like that." He scolded after a while of us laughing together on the stars, still tangled up in each other, poking the side of my face.  
"Dude, can we just... Forget that happened, maybe?" I asked, unable to meet his eyes.  
"No, no we can't. I already have a lack of enough memories. I'm not going to try to forget anything more, Alfie." He whispered. I sighed, letting my head softly fall against the ground.  
"Besides, why would you want to forget..?" My breath hitched in my throat. I had been dreading that question, among many others. I knew exactly how he would respond when I told him we were twins; any chance I had with him would fly out the window.  
And now that I had kissed him, it would also completely destroy our relationship as brothers. I couldn't have that-  
But before I could answer him, his complexion went pale and his body went limp, completely collapsing. I grabbed him hastily before his head could hit the ground again, and I couldn't help but notice how quickly sweat had formed on his forehead.  
"Mattie, is it another memory..?" I asked him worriedly, unsure whether he was had actually seriously injured himself when he hit his head or if it had triggered another memory, and it was just a delayed reaction. _If it's... Oh God please no... He can't be remembering that we're..._  
Before I could finish my thought, he drew a sharp breath, his eyes snapping open. He pushed himself away from me, leaning over and coughing.  
"Mattie..? Mattie!" I jumped up, skidding over beside him, "Mattie, what-?"  
"Al, we're..." He spoke through coughs.  
"Dude, wait until you've calmed down." I said, rubbing circles on his back and ignoring the growing sense of fear. He complied, and waited until his coughing had stopped and took a few deep breaths. _That was quick for the third time…_  
When it had, he looked up and stared right into my eyes as he confirmed my fears.  
"We're... Twins... True... or false...?" I looked away, sitting back on my butt and running a hand across my face. He must've guessed the answer from my reaction. "Why didn't you..?" He asked, but couldn't finish the question. I knew what it was, though. I knew exactly what it was. _Just be honest with him, idiot. You've lied enough to the guy already._  
"Because, Mattie, I love you. More than just a brother. I always have. When you vanished a hundred years ago, I... I wanted to tell you then... I had finally gotten the courage.. But when we found you, you were..." I trailed off, choking on a sob as the memory of seeing his broken body hanging limply on the stone wall resurfaced, bruised, cuts that were seeping pus and blood all over him and blood lying in every corner of the room.  
It was all I could to not let tears fall as everything about that day rose to the surface.  
"I couldn't... When you woke up a month ago, I was so happy... But at the same time so nervous and sad... My own brother didn't remember who I was; if I messed up helping you regain your memories, you'd wind up hating me, and..."  
"I could never hate you, Alfred." And I felt his lips briefly skim over my own.  
I looked up at him.  
"You aren't mad..?"  
He smiled softly, shaking his head, before it quirked into a sad smirk, "Besides, Personifications like us can't exactly be blood-related to anyone, can we? It's more just a title we give to those close to us." I gave a small laugh, nodding.  
"True..." I pulled him into a hug, refusing to be far apart from him at this point. He didn't complain, rather nestled into my shoulder and letting out a small, content sigh.  
"You know, Mattie, you have one hell of a gift." He cocked his head, but still kept it against my neck.  
"What would that be..?"  
"Even when the rest of the world forgets you, or when you forget the rest of the world, you can still manage to make anyone you meet happy." He laughed, the sound vibrating against my shirt.  
"I'm still getting back those memories, thank you very much," He grinned teasingly, "You know what England said about premature memories."  
"Don't bring that old man into this, please," I grunted, "This is our moment."  
"I know..." He breathed, stifling a yawn. I remembered how tired he could become after regaining a memory -and how easily he did- so I slowly laid back down until I was staring up at the stars with my back against the wooden boards, careful to keep his position as best I could. I knew how annoying it was when you wanted to sleep, but had lost the perfect position and just couldn't find it again. I didn't want that for him, not right now. Not ever.  
"I love you, Alfie..." He muttered sleepily. I felt his long eyelashes flutter closed against my neck. He didn't show any response when I responded, so I just lay there in silence until sleep claimed me as well.  
"I love you too, Mattie... Good night."

 **A/N: ...**  
 **...**  
 **...**  
 **Guys.**  
 **I just did a thing.**  
 **And never before have I shipped UsCan so strongly.**  
 **I really hope y'all love this just as much as I do.**  
 **'Cause this is probably my favourite thing I have ever written.**  
 **And ever will write.**  
 **Romance or not.**  
 **'Cause I love it so much.**  
 **And yeah.**  
 **Hope y'all enjoyed.**  
 **Now, I'm going to go cuddle my own Kuma and try to stop the intense fangirling before anyone comes upstairs.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own Crazier. Taylor Swift does. Though, now it's one of my favourite slow songs. Because UsCan and NJFDSINFFSIJBSFV feeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEElsssssss and fluffffffFFFFFFFFFffffFfFffFFFFFFFFFF.**


	12. Chapter 12

~Canada's PoV~  
I breathed in, inhaling a soft scent as I blinked open my eyes. _W… What? Where am I…?_ My brain gave a rare pause in the mile-per-minute wake up. … _Maple, why does this keep on happening to me..?_ Trying to push myself up, I found myself unable to do so. _Wha-? Why can't I- oh…_ A blush licked its way onto my cheeks as the memories of the previous night came to mind through the grogginess of sleep.  
Al had his arms tightly wrapped around me, his eyes closed and revealed no signs to waking up anytime soon.  
So I smiled, deciding to just relax and enjoy the moment. Nuzzling back into the crest of his neck, I breathed out a content sigh. _I only have my memories of him from when we first met as kids, and since I've woken up in the hospital, yet I feel so calm and happy around him… I wonder why._ I questioned myself, relaxing into his warm embrace. _Maybe… Maybe I loved him before whatever that thing with Germany was…_ I forced myself not to let my thoughts linger on that, though. I would remember what - and why - in time. I just had to live with that fact, and be patient.  
 _It must be hard on Alfie too, I can't forget that. I wonder how long ago that was… How long he's been waiting…  
_ Tears sprung to my eyes at that question. Just how long had I been in a comatose for? How long has Al, no, has everyone been worrying about me? I remembered that man from when I woke up the second time, all the faces that had been in the room. There had been so many I couldn't even count. _Were they all waiting..? Were they all suffering, worrying..?_ Somehow, I was surprised at the idea. Something deep down told me it was impossible; that there was no way they would've.  
And yet…  
"Maggley...?" A groggy voice droned in my ear, pulling me out of my thoughts and back to reality.  
"Al, you're awake." I chuckled at his inability to speak. He merely groaned, before tightening his hug around me, clearly still ninety percent asleep.  
"Dum't nargh ut be." He complained, planting his nose into my hair grudgingly.  
"Then I suggest you wake up," I grinned against him, "Or I don't think I'll be able to not laugh."  
"Hut ket's pold…"  
"It's early morning and we don't have a blanket, of course it's cold." Somehow I could understand what he was saying. Somehow.  
"Tin't gare."  
"A-Al, we really should at least go inside-"  
"MUUU!" He immediately pulled me tightly against him. I felt his quick heartbeat through his shirt, and I wondered if he could feel mine as my cheeks heated up what felt like a thousand degrees. I pulled my arms up from under his, pushing against his chest in a desperate attempt to break away. _Maple, why is he so strong?!  
_ "Al, listen, we're both going to catch a cold, and-" His blue eyes cleared at that, and his grip slackened enough for me to get away, if only a little.  
"Fine, but don't think I'm letting you get away quite yet." _Oh, thank the lord of maple he can word aga-_ I let out a small shriek at sudden movement, instinctively clinging onto his neck as he stood up, in the same motion also picking me up bridal style.  
"A-Alfie! Warn me before you do that!"  
"I said I wasn't letting you get away quite yet, dude," He smirked at me, winking. "But how could a hero allow the one they love to get sick?" My stubborn former blush returned as he held my gaze warmly.  
I didn't say anything as he carried me into the house, through the halls, and kicked open the door to his bedroom.  
"Wha-? Why are we going in here?!"  
"Why do you think? To warm up." He replied as he layed me on the huge bed, rolling over me so he was on the other side without losing his grip. _How does he pull off stuff like that without crushing me..?  
_ "But-!"  
"What's so bad about it? It's just a bed, Mat- Oh..." He trailed off as he saw my cheeks  
"Yeah, 'oh'!" I snapped, quickly putting some space between us.  
"Why the hell do you remember _that_ but nothing else?!"  
"It's identity memories I've forgotten, not that other sort of stuff!"  
"Well, yeah, okay, but why would you bring it up?!"  
"Why wouldn't I? Everything about this situation says _that_!"  
"Have a little faith in me, dude! I'm not France!"  
"What does France have to do with any of this?!"  
"You- He- You- Um…" He looked away, now unwilling to meet my gaze and blushing just as madly as I probably was.  
"What? He what?"  
"Ohhh, you'll remember that sometime! Just take my word for it that I'm not like that dude!"  
"And how am I supposed to do that when I know almost nothing about him..?"  
"You really aren't making this save easy, Mattie. Just take my word on it." He sighed, before pulling me into a soft hug.  
"W-Well…"  
"Please?" He asked, leaning back and looking at me with puppy dog eyes.  
"Yes, well…" I grumbled. _I can't refuse those eyes…_ "Fine. But just this once."  
"YAY!" He cheered like a little boy just told he could get a new toy, once again gripping me tighter. I sighed, relenting, and relaxed into his hold. _At least it'll give me some time to think some things through..._

After about an hour of laying there together, the first actually useful thought hit me, and it was one I couldn't shrug away.  
"Hey, Al?"  
"... Yeah?"  
"Who's taken care of Canada since I've been… Away?"  
"Crap! That's right! You wouldn't remember them, would you?"  
"Remember who?"  
"Come on! We need to meet them!"  
"Eh?! Maple, who are you even talking about?" I started as he suddenly jumped up and grabbed my hand, pulling me off the bed and away down the hallway energetically. He flashed me that cheeky grin of his that I had grown so used to.  
"Why, the Provinces and Territories of course, dude!"  
"Eh… E-EH?!"

 **A/N: Oh Mattie, you're in for a real shock. xD  
As a little hint: think of him as the literal personification of the rivalry between France and England; my OCs for the Provinces and Territories are very energetic, to say the least… n.n;  
Welp, I guess you'll figure that out on your own in the next chapter. Which, I promise will be longer.  
As always, hope you guys enjoy, and keep on being the totally awesome peeps you are!  
**

 **Now, to translate America's sleep-talk. I'm actually laughing so hard right now, he can be such a dork (I couldn't help myself with this. I've been reading sleepy pairings stuff all day and I just HOSFHSHFBHFHBW) and I don't think many would have Mattie's power of understanding metaphorically-high America. xD :  
Maggley: Mattie  
Dum't nargh ut be: Don't laugh at me  
Hut ket's pold: But it's cold  
Tin't gare: Don't care  
MUUU: NOOO**


	13. Chapter 13

~Ontario's PoV~

I took a short breath, pausing before the huge wooden doors. Flashbacks of that day came back to me, of the first and previous time I had walked through these doors. It had only been three years ago, but it felt like decades.

After the explosion at Halifax, I had been sent as an official messenger with a summons for the personifications of Norway and France in Matthew's send since he had been unable to do so. Now once again, I was back here for almost the same reason. Not quite, though. This time would last for who knows how long. Because of one reason.

After the war, Matthew had gotten himself into trouble with the mind-broken Germany. After a few months of possibly constant torture, he had been found by a search party consisting of America, Britain and France. Now, he lay in a hospital at our capital city, Ottawa, deep in cardiac arrest.

And guess who had been appointed as the temporary representative of Canada until he awoke.

I took another deep breath, shaking my hands.

Last time had been different.

Last time, it was -or should have been- a simple, quick get-in-get-them-get-out situation.

It was meant to be a one-time thing.

This time however, it wasn't. And I had a sickening feeling I'd be standing back before these very same doors in another month, when the next meeting came around.

It wasn't a good feeling in the slightest, and not just due to nerves.

"Ontario?" A strong voice called out to me from down the hall. I turned towards it, only to see America half-walking half-running at me.

"Hi, America." Mentally kicking myself as my voice cracked, I nodded at the American. I guess one could call him my cousin, if anything.

"What're you doing here?"

"What, do you really think the Canadian Confederacy will go without an official representative until Matthew wakes up?"

"I'm not talking about that, dude. I'm talking about why you're pacing in front of the door."

"The first impression I gave the Personifications wasn't exactly the greatest." When he didn't respond, cocking his head questioningly at me, I sighed. "Halifax. I was the one who came to get Norway and France for the trial, remember?"

"Right…" He muttered. I nodded slowly, almost sarcastically.

"Yeah. That and I have no idea what to do."

"You've already done it though, dudette."

"That was different though-"

"Again, you're not getting my meaning. It's no different than a meeting at Parliament."

"But those are other Canadians… Humans, no less. It's not the same no matter how you look at it." He grinned at me encouragingly.

"Come on. Not too long ago you and the others were dominating battlefields, in more ways than one. Don't tell me one of the legendary Canadians cower at the prospect of politics." I just glared at him. He choked on what I was assuming was spit. _Always the same… A part of me hopes he won't ever change, though._

"Good point, dudette… Politics are more terrifying than a rifle." He laughed half-heartedly.

"Coming from you," I managed a joke despite my mood. "I think the last thing on your list of fears is a rifle."

"That is true." He chuckled.

"America, what the bloody hell are you doing?" We both turned around to see a still weary-looking Britain and France coming towards us. "Ontario? Let me guess-"

"I'm here in Matthew's stead." I cut right to the chase. The Brit nodded, before looking over to America.

"I get Ontario, but you have yet to answer my question, you git." I eyed the two of them, knowing an argument would break out in a few moments. _They're not even in the meeting yet… Matthew always told us about it, but…_ France took a few steps towards me, grabbing my arm and pulling me off to the side.

"You're nerveux, Ontario." He said simply. I pursed my lips, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

"Just a little bit."

"It is alright to be scared, mon chère. It is your first time, after all."

"But it's not though! What if the other countries think of me as a joke because of what happened three years ago?" Once again berating myself when my voice cracked, I forced back the tears that threatened to fall. I don't know what it was about the Frenchman, but I just felt like I could open up to him. Like I could rant on about my problems for a thousand years, but he'd always be there to listen.

"They won't. They wouldn't dare to." He smiled, gently stroking the side of my head.

"How can you be so sure about that though…?" He paused, looking back at America and Britain briefly.

"You both go on. We'll join the meeting soon." America shot me a worried glance. France must've caught it, because he snapped angrily at him.

"'ave some faith in moi! Ontario est comme mon fils!"

"Chill dude! I'm just worried about her is all!" He snapped back, "I have a right to that, don't I?!" France looked at me. I cracked a grin.

"I'm used to it, really." With a sigh, France turned back to the American.

"Oui, oui, tu as…" What came next really shouldn't have surprised any of us.

"Good, 'cause FREEDOM!" And with that America turned and bolted through the door like he was a hero, cackling hysterically. Britain looked at us, sighed, and walked in after him.

"Take your time, Frog."

"I'm shocked, Bretagne. Was that kindness I just heard?" He gasped, clutching a fist to his heart.

"Oh, shut it you git." Britain didn't turn around before the door closed behind him, so he failed to see the gentle smile that had lit up France's face. I felt a moment of sadness for the French. _Everyone's so busy thinking about how he's such a flirt, they all completely fail to see this soft, gentle side of him…_

"You wanted to talk privately?" I asked him after a second of silence. He nodded, softly putting an arm around my waist and leading me down the hall.

"Do you know what makes a country, Ontario? What makes us, us?" I nodded, unsure of where he was going with this.

"Yeah. Government, borders, economy-"

"Non non. Not zhat. I'm talking about what's in here." His free hand pressed against my chest, directly above my heart. "Oui, that is all a part of it. But that is not the most important thing."

"Then what is it?" Grinning, he met my eyes steadily. Once again, I was hit by how tired he seemed. Had I not been talking to him face to face, I never would've imagined he was in such a state.

"Tell me, Ontario. What is it that kept you fighting during Ypres? Vimy? When everyone else 'ad failed or turned and ran, you, Matthieu, and the other Provinces all 'eld your ground. You all kept on fighting, even when everything about the situation seemed 'opeless," When I still couldn't find an answer, he continued. "What about the One 'undred Days of Canada then? You all accomplished what 'ad been thought to be impossible, pushing les Allemands back treize kilomètres in a single day. That is no small success, mon amie, and it takes far more than skill alone." I knew he was serious when he didn't address me as 'my dear,' and I couldn't stop the small blush from creeping across my cheeks at the indirect compliment.

"That was all of the Confederacy though. It wasn't just me," I sighed, "I wouldn't have wanted it to be just me either. I don't think it _would_ have ever been possible to do all that stuff without the others." _As much as I hate to admit it, even Quebec. Though she was getting on my nerves most of the time…_

"But you were a big part of it. That is more than enough."

"Though it still-"

"Ontario. You never gave up. You and your friends gave, and gave more even when there was nothing left to give. Even after the tragédie at 'alifax, even after your hearts were broken by it, you kept on giving. That is what I'm talking about, mon chère. The strength of the heart."

"What…?" He chuckled quietly, once again pressing the area above my heart.

"This is unbreakable. You are unbreakable. And don't let any of us tell you otherwise."

"But what if they still do?"

"S'ils le fons, tu l'envoyais pour me parler." He winked. "Because we've all been in the same boat at one point or another. We're supposed to have eachother's backs at the end of the day, and if any one of us abandons that notion there's nothing stopping us from knocking some sense into them."

"But don't you do that anyways…?" France laughed openly at that.

"Oui, mais that is besides the point. We fight outside wars because we know the other so well. Because we are friends." I raised my eyebrow. Without having to say anything, I think he understood my thoughts, because he let out a brief bark of laughter again. "Even Angleterre et moi. The two of us are rivals, oui, but we are there for eachother."

"Yeah… I've noticed that. Considering one of your many, many battles with eachother only took half an hour."

"That was an unfair fight!"

"That was what you call 'be ready for anything on the field'."

"We were!"

"The Brit's had every advantage imaginable." He paused, mouth open and a finger held up. Though no words came out of his lips.

"'ow do you know about that anyway?!"

"The main First Nation tribes _did_ have their own personifications, you know. Beyond Alfred and Matthew," Now it was my turn to grin cheekily at someone. "Ever hear of Algonquin?" With a groan of defeat, France started walking away.

"We don't want to be too late, _Ontario_. Let us get going. We 'ave a meeting to attend." I took a deep breath. _You'll be fine, Ontario. Girl up._

"I 'ave never 'eard that one before, mon chère." I blushed lightly when I realized I had said that aloud. He didn't mention it again, though.

Silently, we both walked back to the large wooden doors I had been pacing in front of not thirty minutes before. France stopped in front of them, turning back and gesturing to me. I paused, forcing the butterflies in my stomach down before pushing open the doors to my new life.

Once again, I was hit with the odd feeling of everyone turning towards me. America was standing right on the inside of the doors, and as soon as France and I stepped in he brightened, grabbing my wrist and practically dragging me over to two empty seats. He sat me down right next to Mexico - the ravenette shot me a brief, reassuring smile - and then proceeded to sit down in the chair on my other side.

"America?! What are you-?"

"Speeding things up, dudette! What does it seem like?"

"It seems a lot like you just dragged me halfway across a room!" He gave me his signature grin and thumbs up.

"Good, 'cause that's what I did!" I groaned, slamming my head against the desk.

"It'll be fine. Just don't say anything, don't question anything, _don't get into the fights_ , and you'll be fine, amiga!" Mexico said, a little too darkly, and I glanced up at him.

"Why do you say it like that…?"

"You'll… Ah, apprenderás, amiga… You'll catch on soon." The warning look he gave me was nervous enough to freeze over my soul.

 _Canada, give me your experience. Give me your help. Because, for the love of God, I have a feeling I'm going to need every last bit of it..._

* * *

 **A/N: Oh Ontario… You will. You will need everything Mattie has. Namely his overwhelming patience. XD**

 **Just to completely clear things up, this is a flashback chapter as to what went down after Mattie's whole thing. I was planning on putting it in** _ **after**_ **introducing the Provinces but I figured it would be better if it went before, for whatever reason.**

 **YOLO!**

 **Also I'm currently working on a little fic based around the Halifax Explosion, so that'll hopefully be up soon. And I've finally learnt how to do the horizontal lines, so I'll be using these rather than single line breaks.  
**

 **English to French;  
Nerveux: Nervous  
Mon chère: My dear  
Ontario est comme ma fils: Ontario is like my daughter  
Oui, oui, tu as: Yes, yes you do…  
Les Allemands: the Germans  
Treize kilomètres: Thirteen kilometers  
Mon amie: My friend**

 **English to Spanish;  
Apprenderás: You'll learn (Any thoughts from native Spanish speakers on this one…? I just have a bad feeling about it.)**


	14. Chapter 14

~America's PoV~

Relief was still filling me up as we rode past the border. I was so happy I felt like I might burst. _He remembered, but it doesn't bother him._

"Hey, Mattie. The rest of this trip will be up to you." I called out behind me, slowing Thunder down to a steady trot. The stallion snorted, making the transition easily.

"What? How?" He asked as he rode up next to me on the mare Valley. Thankfully, his body remembered how to ride, so I wouldn't need to worry about him falling off or anything. _After all, we are the top two equestrians in North America._ I thought smugly. It wasn't really bragging, it was a fact. The only ones that could even try to top us were the original States and Provinces.

"I can't find the Provinces or Territories. That's your job."

"How the hell am I supposed to do _that_?! In case you've forgotten, I can't remember a thing about them!"

"Sense them. Trust your gut; you guys are bound together. You're naturally drawn to each other." He looked at me like I had grown another nose, and I sighed. _How the hell do I explain this to a guy with no memories..?_

"It's like… Since you've woken up, have you had a feeling like you belong in another place? Like there's a part of you that's missing, and you've wanted to find it this entire time?" He shot me a withering look.

"Oh, you mean that notion I just can't shake called 'just who the hell am I'?" We were silent for a moment, both trying to decipher whether the other was joking, before I groaned.

"Just… Close your eyes, and picture the scenery around us right now, except in a type of black and white setting," He did so without complaint. "Now, do you see anything? A trail, maybe red or white? Or just any colour?"

"No…?"

"You really don't feel anything? See anything?"

"No, I really don't." _Great… I'll be sure to make a note of that…_ Then a thought struck me. "Do you sense me?"

"Yes I do, because you're right next to me, Al!"

"Okay, give me a second." I dismounted from Thunder, and as quietly as possible dashed behind a tree a few meters off to the left. "What about now?"

"Um… Maybe?"

"What direction am I in?"

"Direction… How can I tell that without opening my eyes?"

"Gut instinct, Mattie."

"North..?" I sighed.

"Not like compass direction, don't do that to me dude. Like right, left, forward or backward."

"Left." His answer came more confidently this time. I grinned.

"Great! Now take that feeling and search for it beyond us. It might be really far though." _It shouldn't be too different of a sense, right..? We are twins, after all…_ I walked out from behind the tree, easily remounting. Thunder gave me an exasperated look, turning his head to look at me directly. I mouthed a "what" to the horse, who snorted and returned to standing still. I shrugged, smirking and turning my attention back to Mattie.

"I… Maybe?"

"Where's it coming from?"

"There's a lot of feelings around it, but I feel some standing out from the rest…"

"Maybe Ottawa…?"

"Where?"

"It's the city that you were at at first. Your capital. It would make most sense. Is it coming from north east?"

"About, yeah."

"Let's try there then!" I grinned, giving him a thumbs up when he opened his eyes.

"Yeah, sure." He breathed, and we both kicked our horses up into a slow canter.

* * *

" _Look, I told you!" I let out a whoop of victory._

" _Yes, yes. I'll admit that you were right just this once."_

" _Hold up! France, you heard that, right?! Please tell me I didn't just hallucinate that!" I froze on my tracks, turning back to the French eagerly. He glared at me, not returning my enthusiasm at all. Though I could see a glow in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Mattie, his missing adoptive son, was somewhere in the dull grey building that stood tall in front of us. It gave all three of us a ray of hope that we had long needed._

" _Oui oui, j'entendu. Tu as une problème, Amérique…"_

" _Hey! You do just as much as me!" I protested, "You know you'd brag about it too!"_

" _Can you two gits please just shut up? We need a plan," Britain intervened before our argument could move on. "The last thing we need is your two's bickering to alert somebody that we're here!" With a sigh, the three of us started formulating a plan._

* * *

 _I looked up at Germany, holding his frozen gaze evenly.  
"You do realize vhat you are suggesting, America," He growled, "Your bruder is free, and in turn, you are in his place. You do realize zhat everyone vill abandon you? Zhere is no vay you vill keep your allies."  
"I don't care, Germany," I snapped, glowering at the broken nation. _

It's not his fault…

It's not his fault,

It's not his fault...

He's not himself...

 _I kept on repeating those words to myself in an attempt not to snap, to strangle him._

He isn't himself...

His country is rebuilding…

His people are desperate...

I can't even imagine what he must be feeling right now...

 _My gaze softened considerably when I thought of what I had felt during my civil war._

It had been so painful...

So torturous...

And it was always, _always_ there...  
 _"You vould trade great strengzh for a single zhing? He is not even fully independent yet." His ice blue eyes widened slightly in surprise, cutting off my train of thought. Any idea of sympathy was abruptly washed away when he called Matthew a 'thing.'  
"I would trade allies for my brother." I snarled. Just at that moment, there was a sickening crack! as a rifle barrel collided against his head. The German's eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed to the ground in a tangled heap.  
"You took your dear sweet time, Arthur." I spoke through ground teeth, my steel glare still refusing to leave Germany's unconscious form. Arthur watched me warily for a moment, his thick eyebrows knitting together, before replying.  
"I'm sure you're aware that we have never been in here before? It took awhile to find a safe route." I didn't respond, only stood up and started walking.  
"Where's France?"  
"How the bloody hell should I know? The Frog can go die in a hole for all I care!"  
"Where's. France?" I asked, firmer this time. Britain sighed, mumbling to himself before answering.  
"He's on his way. Frog got a little preoccupied with some guards."  
"We're not waiting. If he doesn't catch up, he can find his own way out of here."  
"Wha-? America! That wasn't the plan!"  
"Yeah? Well, plans change, Arthur."  
"A-America..."  
"Come on," I stormed off down the nearest hall, "We need to find Mattie. _Now _."_

* * *

~Canada's PoV~

"Shut it, ya stupid Frenchie!"

"I don't care what you say, Alberta!"

"Well ya should!"

"Mais je ne pas!"

"Oh real smooth, Quebec! You know, that's just like you really, reverting to that damn language every waking moment!"

"It's not my fault that you're too stubborn to learn it!"

"Can you two maybe **shut** _ **up**_?!"

Al looked over at me and grinned sheepishly.

"Found 'em…" I glanced at him and then back at the scene before me, wide-eyed. 13 people stood in the clearing, one of them a kid, and a large golden dog. _Were these them…? What does he expect me to do…?_

"Relax, dude," Al grinned, "They'll listen to you. You're probably the only one they'll listen to, actually…" I wasn't sure if I was meant to hear that last part. Mainly because it really didn't help to calm myself down.

"Are you sure about that?" I glanced back at the scene. The dog had paused, and was turned in our direction. He blinked slowly, before turning back to the group and letting out a loud bark.

"Labrador? What is it?" A blonde boy who looked relatively younger than the rest, maybe thirteen or fourteen years of age, asked. The boy knelt down, gently rubbing the dog's head. The dog whined, turning back to look at our spot in the trees. "Guys, I think there's someone there…Something's bothering Lab." He was drowned out by the sound of arguing though, the others' voices rising in volume. He heaved a sigh, before standing up and yelling at the top of his lungs. " **SHUT IT!** "

Everyone froze, the two that were arguing the most glaring at him.

"What, Newfie? What's so important?" The girl - I'm assuming her name was Alberta - snapped.

"Don't you feel that? Someone's there." Alberta's eyes flickered shut, before they opened again, this time cold as stone.

"America, what the hell are you doin' here?! Haven't you done enough?" She shouted. Al winced, a small laugh escaping his lips.

"I'm not sure if it's a good thing that you've recognized me, Alberta." _That's one name confirmed… I'm guessing that boy is Newfie, and the dog is called Labrador…? Is he one of the Provinces…? Why is he a dog?_

"Don't ask that, by the way. Labrador has a hot temper when that's brought up." My gaze snapped over to the American. Had he heard what I had been thinking? _How?_

"We're brothers, remember? That's how it works with us Personifications. We're linked. Not as much as North and South Italy, but still linked. We shared a name once. That means that I can more or less know what you're thinking, feeling, and where you are, even if you're outside my borders."

"But I can't-"

"I'm passing that off as a side effect of the memory loss. It seems like your body doesn't have a full grip on what you are yet… Mostly because you haven't woken up screaming half the time at night."

"Wha-?"

"Long story. You'll understand eventually." He cut it off there. _Right. He's probably worried he's said too much already. Damnit…_

"You might as well come out, Alfred," Another girl called out from across the clearing, "We all know you're there."

"I'm not alone, though, Ontario," He smirked, even though they probably couldn't see it. "Take a guess who's here too- if you get it right, I'll come out!"

"Yoo're gonnae radge, Alfred! Hoo th' heel ur we supposed tae dae 'at?!" A male with dark red hair snapped.

"Sorry, Nova Scotia. Rules are rules, you know." Al chuckled, a playful gleam in his cornflower blue eyes that I don't think I've ever seen there before.

"America, there ain't nobody else over there!" Alberta snapped impatiently. An odd pang shot through my chest when she said that. _I wonder why…? Probably something to do with who I was before…_ _Oh well._

"Al, we probably should- MMPH?!" He cut me off, pulling me against his chest. I struggled, pushing against him in an attempt to get away. However, the American only tightened his grip. I was once again struck at how much strength resided in a body no bigger than my own.

"A-Alfie!" I squeaked, my voice muffled against his shirt.

"Shh. I think they're trying to sneak around and surprise us. Stay quiet, Mattie."

"Wha-?" A split second later, both Al and I were thrown to the ground by an unseen force tackling us.

"Nice going, Columbia!" A female voice shouted through the trees. Al coughed, kicking his legs up to get our attacker - apparently, the person's name was Columbia - off the two of us. My breath hitched in my throat when a crack of pain shot through my spine.

"I know," A cocky voice responded, "You don't need to state the obvious, Manitoba."

"Haha. Real funny, dudes. Y'all crack me up just as much as the States. Truly," Al wheezed, catching his breath and looking over at me. "You alright, Mattie?" He asked, a little more softly than how he had been talking before. I gave him a thumbs up, shooting him a look. Columbia's head shot up at the sound of my name, but he - I had noticed that he was a he - remained silent, hazel eyes never leaving my face.

"Oh yeah. I just love being tackled to the ground and _landing on a root_."

"Canada?" Columbia finally spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That's apparently one of the many names I go by, yes." _Maple that root hurts…_ His eyes widened in disbelief, and he looks over to Al for confirmation. Al nodded, and his eyes clouded over, tears brimming the corners.

"Is it… Really you..?"

* * *

 **A/N: And so, the plot of the past thickens... Mwahahahaaaa.  
**

 **I can't write Scottish accents, so I'm using a translator for it. Therefore, if anything is off, BLAME THE AI. XD Same with languages other than French. Blame AI. I try.**

 **And yes, I know the Acadians immigrated from western France. However, Nova Scotia was named by a Scott, so it's a personal headcanon (if you can even have those for OCs) that he dropped the French accent and picked up the Ye-Ol'-Scottie as a tribute. It helps that the Maritimes have grand respect for the British Isles. Heck, according to my best friend, Newfoundland (and possibly Labrador) even share their culture.**

 **Welp, as always, hope y'all enjoyed! n.n**

 **English to French:  
Oui oui, j'entendu. Tu as une problème, Amérique: Yes yes, I heard. You have a problem, America**


	15. Chapter 15

~Canada's PoV~

"Canada?" Columbia finally spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That's apparently one of the many names I go by, yes." _Maple that root hurts…_ His eyes widened in disbelief, and he looks over to Al for confirmation. Al nodded, and his eyes clouded over, tears brimming the corners.

"Is it… Really you..?" I blinked, staring at him.

"No, I'm a moose." I raised my hands up to my head so they looked like moose antlers, waving them sarcastically. Columbia raised his eyebrows, forcing back the tears before they could fall and looking at Al once again. The American merely shrugged.

"His personality is still pretty off, B.C. It's slowly returning to normal from you-know-what as he keeps getting back his memories."

"Well, make sure ya keep that sense of humour, bud." His hair was an equal shade of hazel to his eyes, and it's slightly wavy, average cut glowed like amber in the dusk sun. "God only knows you'll need it, what once you remember everything."

"Maple… The more I hear about what those memories are like, the more I'm just _itching_ to get them. Truly."

"Oh yeah. You'll love them. Full of rainbows and kittens wearing pompoms, and a fluffy rainbow unicorn dancing through hoola-hoops in the sky," A new voice said through the trees, and I was once again tackled to the ground from yet another unseen force. "You're finally back, Matthew! Took you long enough, ya jerk! Leaving me alone to lead the country like that!"

"Can I expect to be squished to the point of being unable to breathe every time I meet someone I knew before the thing with Germany…?" I wheezed from my spot under a large weight, turning my head over my shoulder to see a girl who looked about my age.

"Ontario, we've been tackled enough today. Get off him, maybe?" Al said. I could hear the underlying humour in his voice though. _Wow, thanks brother. Really feeling the love here._

"You're welcome, Mattie!" The American quipped and shot me a cheeky grin. I grunted, my head flopping back down against the ground. A couple leaves rustled under it, and I knew that they would be tangled in my hair when I moved again. _Great. Just great._

"Are you always going to do that?"

"Yup!"

I shot him a _shut the hell up_ glare, and he just returned it with a wider grin.

"Guys, get over here!" Columbia shouted, propping up on his elbows to push himself up so he was standing. He reached down, grabbing Ontario's hand and pulling her up to her feet before doing the same for me. I hesitated, eyeing it nervously before that feeling tugged in my chest once again and I gave in, grabbing his hand and accepting the help up.

Something in me said to trust it, trust him, trust them, and I wasn't going to argue with that instinct. It had been guiding me thus far, and it has yet to veer wrong.

Ontario spoke to me in a quiet voice though, before the others came.

"Do you remember enough to go to World Meetings?" She asked. _That must be what was in the first memory…_ I nodded.

"I think so."

"Yes!" Letting out a loud whoop of victory, her arms flew up into the air happily. "I was getting sick of sitting through those meetings!" Ontario let out a short, high-pitched laugh.

"Should I take that reaction as good or bad…?"

"Um, good, I guess? It's just that I've always felt out of place because _everyone was a country_ and _I wasn't a country,_ and they're all definitely… Interesting. You can never tell what will happen." I pursed my lips, before yet another force crashed into my back, sending me flying to

the ground. I felt a rough, large tongue licking all around the back of my neck, and when I somehow managed to turn over so I was lying on my back the licking continued, just on my face.

"Okay, okay…!" I wheezed, gently pushing the large dog off my stomach. One look into the canine's eyes and I knew I couldn't get mad for being tackled to the ground again. "Can't breathe…!" The dog stopped its tongue assault, stepping back with it's tail between its legs. I sat up, a small pang of guilt coursing through me. With a small smile, I scratched the golden-furred dog behind its ears.

"Your name was Labrador, right…?" I asked, for some reason expecting an answer from the creature. The dog let out a bark, nodding its head. "Can you understand me?" I asked, my eyes widening. It let out another bark, snuffing my shirt.

"It's a thing with us personifications. And since Lab's one too, he has an especially easy time communicating with us." Ontario explained, a warm grin on her face as she watched the Labrador. I nodded in understanding.

"I guessed, but I thought that was only with a select few animals. I didn't know it was with everyone."

"Well it-" She was cut off when, once again, I was thrown to the ground. I heard a hot burst of laughter that sounded suspiciously like her voice.

"Okay, is this a normal thing with you guys?! Do you always repeatedly tackle people?! Or is this a special honour I'm getting?!"

"It's perfectly normal, Matthew," Another male voice, one that had a similar accent to the one I occasionally heard Al with, spoke up from above me. "Ya ain't got no reason to worry."

"Saskatchewan, really? Get off him," Ontario said, stifling her laughs long enough to grab whom I was assuming was Saskatchewan, pulling him off me.

"Matthew, why don't you get some rest? You look like you need it…" Ontario said, peering at my face. Suddenly I realized how lightheaded I had become, despite still being on the ground. "We can ride to Ottawa when you wake up, if you want." Al looked over, a worried glint in his eyes.

"You alright, bro?" He asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I insisted.

 _This has happened so many times._

I pushed myself up to my knees,

 _I don't want it to happen again._

My head pounded.

 _Why does it come now…?_

I heard a worried yip. I looked over, giving Labrador a weak smile.

"Mattie? Is it…?"

 _Maple, I can't…_

"Yeah…"

That was the last thing I said before my arms buckled out from under me and I blacked out.

The last thing I felt was a pair of strong arms rapidly wrapping around my chest.

And then only the absolute darkness I had grown oh-so used to.

* * *

" _Let me make this perfectly clear for you Anglophones;_ all us in Quebec don't want to fight England's wars _." A young girl with black hair which was tied up in a ponytail snapped harshly._

" _That's exactly why I'm suggesting what I am, Quebec. There's a way to solve this conscription issue peacefully." A voice that belonged to me yet not my lips answered._ Is this… Another memory?

" _No chance. No chance! What have I been saying this entire time? You frenchies ain't got no respect for the greater good! Can ya not see what Matthew's proposing is the best possible option for everyone?!" Another girl, this one her chocolate brown hair was in a sole braid running down her back with a cowgirl hat sitting atop her head, snapped._

" _Alberta," A boy stood up beside me, who looked alike to the girl he was addressing. "Don't." At that simple word, the girl apparently named Alberta turned away, grumbling something under her breath. A dull ache resonated through my head, and there was no doubt that, had I been in control of my own body, I would've doubled over. The old me merely tensed, however never visibly revealed the small pain._

" _Quebec, it's the best you're going to get. We can't fight a war with half an army, especially not if it becomes a war on two fronts," Old me spoke calmly, but I could feel the frustration coursing through hi-_ my _veins. "Si l'Allemagne vien ici, sur le terre Canadienne, tu dois défendre avec nous. Si la guerre reste en Europe, c'est seulement les volontaires qui doivent participer au guerre." Quebec heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples._

" _D'accord, Matthieu… Tu est chanceux que j'avais une bonne jour." The highly traditional Province turned and left without another word. I watched her leave the dark room, muttering an airy 'merde' under my breath._

" _Well, that's just great. Ya got any suggestions this time, Matthew? Maybe we could officially start a civil war!" My narrowed gaze turned towards the boy who had spoken._

" _Really, Saskatchewan? Are you actually suggesting that?"_

" _What? We may as well make it official. Them Frenchies ain't nothin' short of ticked off, and they already hated us enough before any of this." I sighed, rolling my eyes up at the ceiling wearily before making my exit, following Quebec's footsteps created not a moment ago._

This had better not mess too much up… _A foreign voice resonated in my head, filling my thoughts with ones that I wasn't thinking._ A divided country isn't a healthy country… Especially at a time of war, when our economy is falling so low… _I paused, thinking over that line. A sole worm of doubt wriggled its way into my heart._

Is this… Really… Me…?

* * *

 **A/N: SO SORRY ITS BEEN SO LONG! AND SO SORRY ITS SO SHORT! AND SO SORRY I KINDA RUSHED THE LEADUP TO THAT MEMORY! Writers block was a lilbeyotch at that part and I went "Okay, I have to force my way out of this or I'll never update."  
I've been dedicating February getting used to my new schedule and giving the teachers a nice first impression, so I've been a little preoccupied. I actually completely forgot about updating until this morning… n.n; So, short, rushed, all in all highly awkward, but it's something. And I have some stuff to talk to y'all 'bout, so bare with me on this A/N.**

 **To start off, something less serious. You guys might end up hating me for suggesting this but go find the saddest Canada ship fic you can think of and read it while listening to Invisible by Disciple. It's such a perfect song for all his ships… Now that I've associated it with him I'll never be able to listen to it without sobbing.**

 **Second less serious thing before serious things: WHO HERE HAS READ GUTTERS. I started and finished it Monday, and I (sorry for my language but I can't find any other words to explain this) fucking cried myself to sleep, because DEAR. GOD. WHO THE HELL WOULD DECIDE TO WRITE THAT. IN WHAT WORLD IS THAT OKAY. THAT WAS NOT FUCKING OKAY. MY FRIEND SHOWED IT TO ME AND WE READ IT AT THE SAME TIME AND WE BOTH THOUGHT IT WOULD BE FUNNY BECAUSE EVERYTHING SHE SAW ABOUT IT ON TUMBLR WAS ABOUT DEN'S APPARENT OBSESSION WITH PINEAPPLES AND NOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPENOPE. NOPE. FUCKITTY BYE.  
Sorry I just… I have been BROKEN for the past forty eight hours thanks to that fanfiction. I can't remember the last time a fic has actually led me to physical, quite real tears, but I was fucking sobbing for at least an hour. I don't even KNOW for how long because I fucking fell asleep. I was crying so hard it exhausted me. T_T**

 **Now, for serious stuff, I got a question for y'all. My mind has been swimming with ten hundred fic ideas lately - one of the reasons I haven't been updating, besides school - and I had one that I kinda really like but I'm seriously not sure about at all, since it follows modern events.  
Trump.  
I'd change names of all the nation's bosses, the year (as this is already set in the future,) but basically it would be an almost World War Three? It came from the idea that he's so like Hitler and before I knew it my HIGHLY messed up brain had warped the whole situation into an UsCan fic (possible sequel to this..? If anything, that's what it'll be) where the FACE family, Mexico, Greenland, and the NATO countries are dealing with the threat of the power abuse of (let's call him Sam, for the sake of a name) that would be sitting at his fingertips, and a whole bunch of shit goes down following, including Alfred trying to hold off his "America" side to keep rebelling against the government and military because he's seen what this path leads towards and doesn't want that - again -, and Sam is saying "Nope, you do what I say, ya lil' brat."  
**… **. I'm trying to keep this as vague as possible. n.n; And yeah.  
But, what do you guys feel about it? I personally **_**hate**_ **it when people do things about current/recent events, and I know I'm not alone on that opinion. Which is why I'm so hesitant about this.**

 **Also, the memory was of the conscription from World War One, where the Canadian government was trying to entirely stabilize an army. Basically, it was the time-old thing of English and French hating everything the other suggests. Except, this time, within the same borders. The final product of it was Borden saying to the Quebecers that if opposing forces (I only know the official name in French - Triple Entente) came onto Canadian water/soil, then they would be forced to participate in defensive measures. However, if the war remained in Europe then they could keep on participating indirectly, lending supplies to the war effort and that. It pretty much tore apart the country - neither the first, nor last time that happened, - and was one of the more minor reasons (in my personal opinion) for the economy drop after the war ended. Just because a divided country ain't no healthy country, as Canada himself said.**

 **So, yeah. Sorry for such a long note. I just had a lot I wanted to tell y'all, and explain that, 'cause I don't seem to be successful in following my rule of 'mostly canon memories' so far. As always, hope you guys enjoyed! n.n**

 **French to English (I just realized that I've had that backwards this entire time, saying English to French. ^~^; Oops…)  
Si l'Allemagne vien ici, sur la terre Canadienne, tu dois défendre avec nous. Si la guerre reste en Europe, c'est seulement les volontaires qui participe au guerre: If Germany comes here, on Canadian turf, you must defend with us. If the war remains in Europe, it's only volunteers that participate.  
D'accord, Matthieu… Tu est chanceux que j'avais une bonne jour: Alright, Matthew… You're lucky I've had a good day.  
Merde: Shit (I'm not sure if I've used it before in this fic so here it is in the translation section.)**


	16. Chapter 16

~Canada's PoV~

Darkness.

That was all I saw.

The world was dark, black, cold.

And it surrounded me from all sides.

The air felt tight.

It was squeezing me.

Trying to confine me, to the point I couldn't move.

There was something peeking out of the darkness.

I tried reaching up to it, but I couldn't control my body.

I tried screaming at my arms; _move!_

I tried screaming at my legs; _walk!_

I tried screaming.

Nothing happened, though.

I felt hollow.

As if there were nothing in me.

 _I've felt this before._

 _Once..._

 _Long ago._

 _Very, very long ago..._

 _Why do I feel it again?_

How long ago did I feel it, though?

Maybe it wasn't all that long ago...

 _Personifications..._

What does that mean...?

I thought for a moment, trying to place the word.

Then it hit me.

 _Countries..._

 _We're... The human embodiment of countries…_

I searched for a name.

Anything to place alongside that.

 _I'm… Canada…_

 _But who's Canada?_

I couldn't answer that question, no matter how hard I dug.

My head started pounding whenever I tried.

 _England…_

 _France…_

 _America…_

Odd names I couldn't understand waved around in my head in a vicious, merciless, uncontrollable wave.

 _Why…?_

 _What are all these…?_

 _Why can't I understand them…?_

 _I know them, but…_

 _I can't…_

 _Place…_

 _Them…_

Then things started falling into place, one after the other.

Things were coming together.

Like a puzzle piece.

My mind was one massive puzzle piece.

Faces paired up with names.

 _Australia…_

 _Hong Kong…_

 _Norway…_

 _Iceland…_

 _We're all countries…_

Why didn't I remember them?

Why were there still faces that I couldn't place a name with?

Why couldn't I move my arms?

My legs?

 _Why couldn't I control my body?_

I wanted to.

I wanted to move.

I wanted to escape this total darkness.

 _Al must be worried sick._

I need to go.

 _I need to talk to him._

I needed to talk to the Provinces, the Territories.

 _I don't even know Nunavut, or Newfoundland and Labrador._

And they were part of me.

 _They've always been a part of me._

 _And I've been asleep their entire time with me._

 _With us._

I needed to wake up.

Somehow.

There had to be a way.

A way to get my limbs to move.

To obey my will.

 _Something…_

Something was there.

I felt something.

On my shoulders.

It felt… Like a hand?

Arms?

 _What was it?_

I needed to know.

I needed to find out.

 _Why the hell can't I control my own body?_

I desperately tried again.

I mentally lashed out with my arms.

My legs.

My chest.

My head.

Even my fingers.

Again.

Nothing worked.

It was like I was encased in cold, solid ice.

And there was no escape.

* * *

It felt like I was there for hours.

Until…

Until a thought resonated through my head.

One that sounded familiar.

Somehow, I managed to place it.

What it was…

Scared me.

So much.

I was terrified.

All from that one thought.

It was Alfred's voice.

A memory.

Small, but still a memory.

And what it was rattled me to the very core.

* * *

 _People always say that when you're in a coma, you're still aware of what goes on around you. That you can still hear people, still feel them. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you could even see them._

 _I prayed constantly that was true._

 _Praying was the only thing I could do for him._

 _And I've never felt so helpless or lost as I have been this past century, even during World War Two._

I saw the world through his eyes.

I- He was staring down at me, our hands entwined together.

In what I assumed was the hospital I had woken up in.

 _Why that?_

 _Why now?_

 _Am I really…?_

 _Again…?_

 _Is that really what people said?_

 _If only that were the truth…_

What those people don't know is this.

You can hear.

You can feel.

You can sometimes see, when you try hard enough.

But it's empty.

Dark.

Emotionless.

You feel blind.

Constricted.

Helpless.

You feel like the whole world was never there.

You feel alone.

You feel like there's no hope left.

You feel the struggles of your body as if you were awake.

You feel the pain.

Yet,

You feel nothing.

Nothing at all, yet everything at the same time.

And it drives you insane.

* * *

I shook myself again.

I was desperate.

The darkness felt like it was swallowing me.

And it was too familiar.

Too familiar to _that one time_.

I wanted…

I wanted to get out.

I wanted _so badly_ to just _get out_.

Get out this prison I had already spent so long in.

Get out of this cold.

This darkness.

This emptiness.

But.

I.

Had.

No.

Idea.

How.

* * *

 **A/N: Annnnnd, nine scrapped chapters later, WE ARE BACK IN BUSINESS! With a STILL VERY CRAPPY CHAPTER! But I went "screw it, I need to get something up," so HERE WE ARE.**

 **YEAH.**

 ***sigh***

 **Just so you guys know, I've started editing this fic. Currently I've done up to chapter three (if the title change didn't give that away…). So if you want a more… Enjoyable. Experience. Reading those bad boys. Go ahead and reread it. I've changed up some lines and just overall cleaned up grammar and ADDED SPACES BETWEEN PARAGRAPHS. Which I don't even KNOW why I didn't do that at first.**

…

 **Yeah.**

 **Welp, as always, hope y'all enjoyed!**


	17. Chapter 17

~America's PoV~

"What do you think is wrong?" Ontario asked. I shrugged, my gaze never leaving the unconscious Canadian. The girl sighed, not moving from her place on the bedside chair.

"He should've woken up by now, if it were a memory," I muttered. I sat on the edge of the bed Mattie was lying on, running a hand through my hair from the all-too-familiar sight. "I thought this was done. So why? Why is he like this, again?" She shook her head hopelessly, refusing to meet my gaze.

"No clue. Did anything happen while he was with you?" She questioned softly.

"Nothing. I never left him alone long enough for anything else to happen. I didn't want this to happen, so I was always there… Always by his side… And yet, still-"

"None of us could've predicted this. He seemed perfectly fine before. He seemed fine when he fell unconscious, too, at first." Ontario cut me off, for reasons unknown to me. Watching her for a few minutes, I frowned, biting my lip.

"Imma go out for a walk. You'll be fine here, dudette?" I queried, standing up and heading towards the door. Ontario merely grunted in response, her stare not leaving her oldest friend. I blinked sadly, head down as I left the room, eager to get away from the heavy atmosphere. For not the first time in my life, I felt completely and utterly dejected, useless, and hopeless.

* * *

 _"Split up, try to find him," England ordered, his voice nothing more than a harsh whisper as we finally reached a four way hall. "Once you do, get out of here. If you haven't found him in an hour, get out."_

 _"We 'ave gone over zee plan ten thousand times, Angleterre. Nous deux comprends ce qu'on devions faire."_

 _"Yeah, well…" England hesitated. I could see him biting his cheek, then the Brit let out a long groan and glared at France. "Shut up, bloody frog."_

 _"Germany shouldn't be awake for awhile, anyways. I'm pretty sure I hit him hard enough for him to be out cold for a good while." I said hotly, my gaze not travelling away from their locked position down the darkness of hall. England eyed me nervously for a moment, before turning to look at where I was staring at._

 _"Oh, just stick to the plan, you wanker." He breathed nervously, trying and failing to cover up his worry with a weakly spoken curse. His somber expression and rather dead eyes gave him away. Or his emerald iris' held worry. I couldn't exactly tell which. France and I nodded. Without another word the two of them vanished from my already limited sight, splitting up and leaving me alone in the darkness of the hall._

 _I frowned in concentration now that I was alone, trying to narrow down that feeling. That instinct inside of me. The same thought that had run through my head so many times lately did so once again._

 _Hold on Mattie._

 _We're coming._

 _Just..._

 _Hold on._

 _Please._

* * *

"Oh, America, America, America… Did you not learn your lesson in New York?" _That voice… I haven't heard it in-_ my thoughts were stopped short when I felt a cold metal press up against my head. My breath caught in my throat, my mind immediately traveling back to the past. "I thought I told you last time we met, if you meddled in my plans any further, I wouldn't hold back on making your life a living abolition."

 _Abolition… Why can't he just go with the cliché 'living hell'…_

"What do you want, ISIS?" I snapped, resisting the urge to whip around and snap the man's neck. I knew what he would do if I tried to make a move. I've seen it happen before, on many, many more occasions than I'd like to admit. The one causing so much pain, so much fear for my country, my people, was right in my hands for the first time in years.

And I was powerless to do anything about it.

I hated this feeling. I hated I hated this feeling.

"Oh, don't you know? I've come about him," I narrowed my eyes, the urge to break his neck growing in me.

"What do you want with my brother?" I growled, "Canada left the war. He isn't part of this anymore."

"Oh, not about the war, silly America. I'm here to tell you something." I felt my heart go stone cold when he said that. His little message was starting to become evident to me before he had even said it. And the idea filled me with rage. "You think that hundred year comatose was natural? After hardly a month of torture? I thought you had more faith in the body of a personification." He said slowly, a sickening smirk dancing across his face. An animalistic growl rose in my throat once I realized which direction the conversation was taking. "No, United States of America. No it was not."

"ISIS, you little-!" He cut me off, making a tsk-tsk noise as he once again prodded the pistol against my skull.

"I truly do suggest you remember your current position. I'd hate to end this game of tag we've been playing together for the past… How long has it been? Almost two decades now, I think. And yet, you're _still_ fighting human nature? I really must hand it to you, you just don't know when to give up."

"Human nature my ass," I growled, "You want nothing other than death, to rule the world." He made that little tsk-tsk sound again. I pulled a grim, tight smile, even though I knew he wouldn't see it. "Why don't you come around, so we can talk face to face? Instead of staying behind me, holding me at gunpoint like the coward you are."

"If it's the coward I am, why would I do anything different than that though? You're always telling people to be themselves, aren't you? You, the almighty hero, who couldn't save the measly lives of his own people." He snickered, making the urge to snap his neck bubble up inside me again. How many times was this going to happen? How many times would he be right under my fingertips, but I was powerless to finally, finally, put a stop to his terror? It's not even like anybody would miss the man. "Besides, I'm no idiot, America. I know for a fact that if I walk around in front of you, it's nothing short of asking to have my neck strung."

"So you do have a brain," I muttered dryly, not in the mood for his bad sense of humour. "Oh well, so much for that plan." ISIS chuckled, the sturdy coldness of the pistol wavering against my hair. But I still didn't move, even after the softened pressure. I didn't dare to.

"Of course I do. You really think just anyone can accomplish the amazing feats I have without common sense? That's just at a bare minimum, of course," He sneered, "I'm saddened, America. Ashamed, even. I thought you understood what you were up against a bit better. I thought I could have a good long time playing with you." The man paused, possibly waiting for a retort. When I gave none, he continued talking. "I saw something in you, United States of America. A fire in your eyes that the others just don't have. An urge to prove yourself to the other nations; that you're not just some idiot to be laughed at."

My jaw clenched, knowing but not wanting to admit that everything he claimed was true. I forced myself to slacken my shoulders, relax my body, calm my mind. I didn't want him to know how much he was getting to me. I couldn't let him know. I wasn't going to let him know. Right when I had managed to convince myself of this, though, he resumed his little speech.

"You and your brother. You feel duty bound to him, because of how invisible he is. You want to become both what you've always dreamed of yourself, and what he _rightfully deserves_. You want to make him _seen_ , make him _noticed_. You don't want to be the reason he's _forgotten_ and _unimportant_ among the rest of the world.

"Oh, by the way, how is he doing? I've been wanting to say hi, but I've been a little preoccupied preparing other... Gifts, for the two of you," The other asked, making me - once again - freeze up. Did he know that Mattie collapsed? How... How would that be possible, though? I haven't seen ISIS face to face in several years, nor have I exactly let Mattie out of my sight, so surely there never would've been a chance… "Ah, but there was one time, wasn't there?" The way he answered my thoughts sent a chill down my spine. I never say them out loud, and yet he always seems to be able to read my mind.

It's like I'm a puppet, and he's the one pulling the strings.

He's the one putting words into my mouth.

He's the one controlling me, and I can do nothing but blindly follow his commands.

And I'm stuck there, dancing all over the stage for the little kids who came to watch the show.

I'm stuck there to be _laughed_ at. To be _mocked_.

"What time? What time could there have possibly been for you to do anything?" I growled. There was that annoying tsk-tsk again. The one he always did when I got tangled up in one of my strings in the middle of the show.

"Remember when you left him with that bear? You thought he'd really be safe with a baby cub? Alone? Right after he's woken up after being poisoned for one hundred years?" I ignored his blatant provocation of admitting he had poisoned my brother, rather focusing on the earlier statement.

"How. How? Kuma's not any normal bear, ISIS. And even then, even with him watching Mattie, _how_ the _fuck_ did you slip into my house without triggering any alarms?"

"Must I really say this again? After what, four, five minutes? You should know by now, America. I'm no normal person. It was easy, really. How I did it? Well, that'll just be up to you to find out." I heard the underlying sarcastic tone in his words, inwardly cursing. Guess he had no plans on telling me what he meant after all.

"Damn, alright then. Guess I'll just have to keep on doing this useless game with you." I sighed, feigning defeat. Before he could add another snarky comment, a voice shouted out from somewhere in the trees.

"Get down!" I didn't question who had yelled. I didn't know if it was even directed towards me. I just did what they wanted, because I've learnt over the years a mystery 'get down' quite often meant 'get down now or you will die'. Not even two seconds after my hand hit the ground I heard a gunshot ring out through the air. Without hesitating, I whirled around, my left leg snapping out in a low sweep.

By the time I had spun around though, the worm was gone.

Vanished.

As if he had never even existed in the first place.

I stood in stunned silence for a moment, still registering what had just transpired.

"Dammit! I hate that man!" With an angry shout I broke my silence, throwing a clenched fist against the wall and managing to leave a decently satisfying crack in the material.

"We all do," Washington muttered, slinging her rifle over her shoulder and walking over to me. Her eyes were a hardened glare, an unbridled rage, at the spot ISIS had stood mere seconds before. "That's kinda why we've spent so long fighting that damn war."

"It's not just…" I closed my eyes wearily, planting my arm against the wall and leaning against it. "That's not why I fight. I just… Hate is the wrong reason to. Hate is such a powerful word, a powerful emotion… I don't want to use it for a reason. I don't want others to go through what we have so often, at his hands. I want a better world."

"We all do, Al," The ravenette murmured, her tone more somber now. More serious. She gently pat my back, still glaring at the spot he had been. "We all do…"

My thoughts traveled back to the way Ontario had looked, hunched over the bed, staring so intently at Mattie's face.

 _I failed her._

 _I failed them._

 _I failed all of them._

I let out a small sigh, my body officially crumpling over into itself from the exhaustion of encountering ISIS and the sudden self-doubt. Washington didn't say anything, just looked at me through her long eyelashes. I felt those violet eyes which were encased in red hair burning into my shoulder, flickering up to look into my own cornflower blue iris'. But I didn't turn to look back at her. I wet my lips, pulling them into a tight, worn-down smile, but other than that, I didn't acknowledge her.

 _What if…_

 _What if another hundred years go by and he's still like this?_

 _What if… My brother doesn't wake up this time?_

 _Can people even wake up from two comatose's so close together?_

So it was official then? My brother was back in a coma? My lover was back in a coma?

With a sigh, the one dream I had before came to mind. 'I don't have a mortal enemy'. Then what should I consider ISIS? If he wasn't my mortal enemy, what was he? I guess it didn't exactly matter anymore, though it still bugged me. What really mattered was that he was here. And he was responsible for everything. And I couldn't do anything to stop him, because I was nothing but a damn puppet on a bundle of string.

 _You do you, America..._

 _You do you..._

 _And you keep on failing just about every single person you care about…_

* * *

 **A/N: Guys. H e l p. e. My brain is overloaded with ideas. . S. I HAVE TOO MANY IN MY HEAD TO FOCUS ON JUST ONE OR TWO. That's why I haven't updated shit in so long. The past few weeks have jumped my Notes number from around 70 to 143. AND COUNTING. I'M STILL TRYING TO CLEAN THIS SHIT OUT OF MY BRAIN.**

 **Moving on... WOW, been awhile since we've had a strictly Al chapter. And… Yep… That happened… In it… BOOM. BET'CHA DIDN'T SEE THAT ONE COMING. HAHA. Y'all thought Germany was the big baddy? XD I feel like I can officially pull the rug out from under you guys without any of you suspecting a thing.**

 **Just wanna say this, though. To be safe. ISIS isn't Muslim. ISIS is a group of people who want to do nothing but make others suffer. I don't associate it/him with the religion or nationality. People who say they're one in the same are nothing short of idiots. Okay? Okay. Just wanted to say that.**

 **And HOPEFULLY you guys can see a difference in my writing style? I've been working on making it more detailed for the past while. Also, working on editing previous chapters, too. Really need to get back to that…**

 **French to English:**

 **Nous deux comprend ce qu'on devions faire: We both understand what we're supposed to do.**


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